


side b

by leisvrely



Series: on-air [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, Drug Use, M/M, Overdosing, Past Injuries, Recreational Drug Use, Rehab, lots of mentions of suicide, lots of smoking, smoking weed, there's implied sexual stuff but nothing goes really into detail cuz i dont write that, there's no suicide tho i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leisvrely/pseuds/leisvrely
Summary: tadashi was ready to build his life out of unsatisfactory a long time ago. now, all he wanted was for things to stay at satisfactory.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: on-air [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584886
Comments: 64
Kudos: 83





	1. the tell-tale shrooms

**Author's Note:**

> here we go again

“ _ Yeah, it sounded like someone fell over. It was just silence. I-I think something bad happened.”  _

It was relatively easy to live a normal life after the line went dead. He went to work, kept to himself, went home, and smoked. Staying the anonymous caller kept the news away from his house, police reports completely unnecessary outside of his initial interview of events. Tadashi was just someone who was in the right place at the right time. 

Funny how everything felt so fucking  _ wrong,  _ though. 

Wednesday was simultaneously the best and the worst day of the week. It was the balance between work and the weekend; an exciting “almost there!” milestone whilst at the same time completely draining to only be halfway. Then of course, there was support group. Group was both his sanity and lack of, therefore. A simple time where he got to sit and think about nothing in particular with a bunch of dolts doing the same. One person in particular reached outside of this category, however.  _ More into the: enormous replacement-dad pain in the ass type beat category.  _ Tapping his foot against the wooden floor, Tadashi decided to go through mental footsteps on what he’d be doing if he hadn’t come today. He had to go grocery shopping, the fridge was starting to get sort of bare in terms of food.  _ Then there was the window cleaner he needed to get… and rolling papers… _

Feeling the eyes bear into him, Tadashi raised his gaze from his exposed kneecaps in his ripped jeans up to Daichi. They always sat opposite of each other in the circle of mismatched folding-chairs. Sometimes it felt like the other man’s gaze transcended realities, able to directly whisper into his ear:  _ Fuc-king pay attention.  _

“Well, um, since I had the surgery, I’ve been taking more and more of this pain medication and well… I think I’m addicted,” the poor sucker standing said to the group, wringing his hands. A cast boot rest around his leg below the knee. Tadashi remembered the new guy from the last meeting. Some guy who broke his ankle pretty bad.

_ He’d be fine in a couple months.  _

Everything was quiet for a moment. No one really wanted to speak up about handling drug-usage. Or maybe just speak up in general. The group leader, an overly-sweet guy named Takeda, looked around for any sort of volunteer of advice. 

“Would anyone like to give some sort of advice for Sukunami? Someone who’s struggled with addiction as well?” 

Daichi was staring again. They met eyes, the other raising his eyebrows to basically say:  _ Go on.  _ With the most minuscule shake of his head, Tadashi sent a look back that said:  _ piss off.  _ Their staring contest didn’t go unnoticed however, Takeda thinking the same as Daichi. 

“Yamaguchi! How about you?”   
And just like that, ten pairs of eyes were glued to him. _Oh, fantastic._ The attention made him lean down in the uncomfortable chair. 

“Um, I mean I’d really just say to prepare for withdrawal. Find a substitute maybe. Weed works.” 

“What, like for smoking?” Sukunami raised an eyebrow at him. 

He shrugged. “Yeah, that’d work.” Nobody in the group seemed amused. Daichi subtly facepalmed. 

“Yam- Okay, thank you, Yamaguchi, that’s enough.” Takeda gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “We don’t condone the usage of any drugs not prescribed to us. In fact…”   
It was easy to zone out after that. The only real time Tadashi felt nihilistic was in group. Being around a ton of wash-ups did that to a person. 

Half an hour later he leaned against the outside of the library, smoking. In the back where the dumpsters were wasn’t the most scenic location, but it was peaceful. There was a slam of the heavy metal doors, followed by footsteps in the gravel towards him. 

“You’re an idiot for pulling that in there and then smoking right outside.” Daichi made his way next to him on the wall, hand on his cane. “Do you want to get arrested?”   
“I think I’d do alright in prison. They’d all be fighting over me to join their gangs.” Despite his friend’s serious demeanour, it was so easy to turn and grin at him. “Don’t you think I’d look good in orange, anyway?”   
Daichi sighed, leaning his head against the bricks. Even with his tired closed eyes, Tadashi could tell he wasn’t actually mad. “Kids like you think you’re invincible, huh? Always testing the limits of everything.”   
“Not my fault you’re old.”   
“I’m not even thirty yet.”   
“O-ld ma-n.” 

Through the corner of his eye, he could see him silently huff out a laugh.  _ There, proof.  _ From knowing him for a few years now, he knew the man couldn’t actually be upset with him. He’d have to feed his cane into a woodchipper or something for that. 

“Do you want to come back to the shop with me? Could always use some entertainment at the counter. Or someone to flirt with my customers.” Tadashi pushed off the wall to look at him in the middle of Daichi’s request, finishing the rest of the joint in his hand. 

Out of courtesy, he blew the stream of smoke downwards. “Fuck off, that was one time.” _And never again, apparently._ “I gotta get back to work, anyway.”   
“If you don’t die in a prison riot, then you’ll work yourself to death by the time you reach my age.”   
“That’ll be a good, long life then. I’ll live to eighty.”   
Daichi playfully punched him in the arm (albeit a little _too_ hard). It was good to see him smile. At this point, it felt like a rarity. 

After clocking in, Tadashi headed into the garage. His latest assignment was an otherwise nice silver Mazda with a totally screwed alternator and radiator. It sat more towards the furthest corner of the shop where he always worked. Even in the loud and static environment, it was almost peaceful there. 

Working in a trade never bothered him. The pay was enough, it gave him a rather viable skill, and busy work like this kept him from thinking too much. On the occasion, people would sympathetically talk down at his job, as if they felt sorry for him. It was embarrassing. Not to have the job, but to have people think he was miserable for not having a white-collar office job. Hitoka did that on the occasion when they were first becoming friends, but after explaining himself she had stopped. 

_ God, he really wanted to call her.  _

They hadn’t spoken in two and a half weeks. This was the longest they had gone without speaking. Part of him thought it was unfair. He didn’t know about them. He didn’t know it was  _ him  _ that said that to her. Tadashi knew she was sensitive, however. At this point, he just needed to give her time.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t dying to  _ talk to her,  _ though. 

After you took away Hitoka, there weren’t many people in his life he spoke to regularly. Of course he loved Daichi, but they weren’t in a relationship where he could talk to him about  _ everything _ . For a while he  _ though _ _ t  _ he could’ve had that sort of relationship with Tsukki- well, Tsukishima. Emphasis on “relationship”. Unsurprisingly, however, he had to pull the plug eventually.  _ Ugh.  _ That left him with literally one angry friend and one enormous replacement-dad pain in the ass friend. Man, he  _ really  _ needed to branch out. 

_ Oh well. At least there was the Mazda.  _

Everything really did feel so wrong. The discomfort crept into his home, an unwanted guest. Smoking kept him sane. Something to do with his hands so he wouldn’t pick at his cuticles. It would be a lie to say it didn’t make him feel cool. Laying back on his sofa (that he _definitely_ didn’t pick up from the side of the road a few years ago) blowing smoke rings in the air made him feel like a badass movie character. Hitoka always told him it made the house smell like skunk, but at this point he was immune. 

He was starting to run a little low on gas. Sometimes it got a little difficult buying, as his dealer grew his own weed. Kita only sold in bulk once every three or four months. Tadashi was admittedly a little afraid of him sometimes, but his home-grown indica batches hit way different than the other dealers he’d had in the past. For a brilliant price as well. Sativa was another story. There had been previous debates over his pricings that were somehow  _ always  _ lost to Kita. It was like arguing with a wall. A wall that was always right and very terrifying about it. Even so, he  _ was  _ a person. His number  _ was  _ in Tadashi’s phone. 

_ Hm. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea.  _

“ _ Yamaguchi? What, are you out already? _ ” The voice on the other line said. Okay, maybe it  _ was  _ a bad idea. 

“No, I- uh,”  _ how was he supposed to say this? _ , “I just sorta… wanted to talk to someone?” Somehow it sounded  _ so much lamer  _ out loud. 

A dreadful silence fell over the call. It couldn’t have lasted more than ten seconds, but it already felt like the most awkward phone call he had ever had. “ _Dude. I- okay. Okay, look. I like you. You’re my best customer. That’s just business, though. I don’t mix personal life with work.”_ _  
_ “Yeah,” he said a bit weakly, “that’s fair.”   
“ _Just go out. It’s what, Thursday? Some other lonely bastards will be out on the town._ “ 

“You’re right.”   
“ _I know. Now, go out. Do something fun. Call me in, like, a week if you wanna purchase, okay?_ ”   
“Alright.”   
“ _I’ll see you._ ”   
Tadashi sighed, finishing what was left of his joint. _Yeah._ Yeah, he was right. He was right. There would definitely be some other lonely losers out on a Thursday evening. 

About a ten minute’s walk from his house was a very underwhelming bar. It was the kind that had peanut shells on the floor and a standing bar that held lots of depressed white-collar workers. He might’ve been lonely and a total stoner, but at least he wasn’t one of those poor suckers. 

The issue with not being able to relate with that crowd, however, was the fact that he couldn’t really talk to them. It was a funny bit of irony. Instead of sitting alone at home, here he was sitting alone at a bar. 

“So he’s really not coming?”   
“He hasn’t picked up the phone in days.”   
“I can’t believe he dumped us. Would rather be a vampire DJ than with us. Breaks my heart.”   
His ears perked up. Ever since he was a kid, Tadashi was really bad about eavesdropping. No matter what he did, it was impossible to stay away from someone who spoke too loud. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the three people sitting in the booth across from him. They looked slightly familiar, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where from. 

They continued to talk about who saw “him” last, what they talked about, and what they were going to do if this dude didn’t come back. Then the conversation drastically changed to something about muses.

“Not in  _ public _ , Akaashi! Go replace me behind  _ closed doors _ at least!” 

“I’ve told you a hundred times already. You are not my muse.”   
Taking a sip from the beer in his hand, Tadashi pretended to look around to watch while longer. One of them definitely just swallowed a capsule. Bickering ensued, the other talking about how he was “gonna end up like a beetle”. _Beetle? Beatle? What, like McCartney?_ Pill-Man responded back with something like “what, completely rich and famous?” and they continued to argue over whether it was Pink Floyd or the Beatles that had a member quit from LSD abuse. _Ah, so that’s what it was._ The man who had kept out of their dispute had started to look back in Tadashi’s direction. _Shit._ He turned away too quickly. The man’s gaze was burning into his shoulder, similar to Daichi’s when he wanted him to speak up during group. 

“Excuse me,” a cute voice piped up. Being the dumbass he was, Tadashi looked up like it was directed towards him. 

A girl with two pigtails, couldn’t have been older than eighteen or nineteen, nervously stood in front of the booth of three. With the small commotion, he had a better excuse to spy. 

“You’re  _ Black Jackals _ , right?” She continued, wringing her hands nervously. 

The three looked at each other for a split second before turning back to her. “Uh, yeah, that’s us.” Blue-Hair responded, eyes a little wide. 

“C-can I get a picture?” 

_OH! OH MY GOD THAT’S WHO THEY WERE!_ _  
__Oh, wait. That’s so embarrassing. That dude must’ve thought I was too shy to ask the same as her._

He watches them take a selfie, Pill-Man (what was he, lead guitarist? Bass? Tadashi only knew a few songs of theirs) holding the camera from the corner of the booth. The girl looks ecstatic before thanking them and skipping over to another girl. Pretty blonde, tall. Yachi would probably comment on them. For someone who was straight, she sure commented a lot on pretty girls they noticed. He missed people-watching with her. It was the best way to pass time at cafes and just hanging out in public. The two used to come up with little stories for every interesting stranger they saw.  _ Ugh,  _ what he would give to witness this with her right now. Once they go back to their own conversation, Tadashi decides to shut down the eavesdropping part of his brain. His beer was more interesting anyway.

“Yo.”   
Jumpy surprise ran down his spine as he turned to face the terrifyingly tall man who was now standing in front of his booth. The same one who caught him staring, sort of, 

“Uh-”   
“Do I know you from somewhere?” The man asks like he already knows the answer, crossing his muscular arms. He was really attractive, but Tadashi was too afraid of getting shanked to dwell on the fact. 

“I- uh, I don’t, um, I don’t think so.”   
_Smooth._

“No? No mutual friends?”   
_Jesus, was this an interrogation or something?_ “I seriously doubt it.” To look a little less terrified/backed into a corner/extremely small feeling/up against someone famous, he took another sip from his beer. Maybe, just maybe, it would help him look a lot cooler than he felt. 

A vague smile settled on his face. “Not even a tall, blond fellow with glasses? A bit too serious and snarky?” 

_ Tsukishima _ ? “I don’t think so.” It felt better to lie about him. “Excuse me,” Tadashi got up from the table, hand gripping his bottle a little  _ too  _ tight. Whatever just happened was too much. He was mad uncomfortable. That dude acting like he knew something Tadashi didn’t was uncomfortable. He shouldn’t have eavesdropped. He shouldn’t have come to the bar. Everything just felt so  _ incredibly wrong.  _

The door creaked open, light pouring into an otherwise dim house. An eerie quiet filled every room, thick, thick silence that suffocated every inch of life within these small rooms. Sometimes it felt like a friend, a friend reminding him that it would only be them two forever and ever and ever. The silence sure was a pal, looking out for him that way. Hanging out in the corner of every room, soundproofing his hole from society, leaving him alone to- no, just alone. 

Tadashi was so lonely. 

Walking in with a sigh, he shrugged off the jacket he wore onto the coat rack. Even in the dark, he knew precisely where everything was. Everything was always the same. Flicking on the lights made things feel slightly less like a haunted house. Tadashi stepped into his living room and collapsed onto the squeaking couch. 

_ Bu-bum.  _

The silence in his head was interrupted. 

_ Bu-bum.  _

Getting up was hard work emotionally. He moved into his bedroom, a rather bare room with photographs of his old team and friends taped to the wall. His radio that he usually brought with him to work was where it had sat since last Saturday. After the call, he couldn’t bring himself to move it. It felt like part of the crime scene. 

_ Ba-bum.  _

He sat down on his bed, running his hands along the sheets as he thought about how he was laying back in bed, smoking up when it happened.  _ Maybe he should cut back. Daichi would sure like that.  _

_ Ba-bum.  _

Using his foot, he kicked open the small drawer in his nightstand. Inside was about a million pieces of garbage that he had yet to clean out. Sitting on top were two ziploc bags holding the shrooms he had taken from Tsukishima. Only two, even when he had hinted at some sort of struggle with addiction. Those two  _ stupid  _ fucking bags that beat in sync with his heart, guilt overruling the silence. 

_ Yeah.  _ Tadashi was at least eighty-percent sure he had killed Tsukishima Kei. 


	2. the falsehoods of equity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: there's a few brief mentions of homophobia and homophobic language

It was hot in the shop. Of course, it was hot everywhere near the end of July. The Mazda customer was talking with him ( _ or listening, rather _ ) about the repairs he made and the cost of each. Tadashi went down the list on his clipboard, showing him around the engine and adding in his speciality, a free oil change. The man was uninterested, looking down on him like some poor little worker and hardly thanking him as he took the keys back and got to drive away to whatever high-paying business job he had. The satisfaction of working on cars was diminished once he had to talk to the owners. 

Checking his watch, he saw that he had a few minutes before his lunch break. Now, it was rare that he actually ate lunch, instead staying to work when most everyone else left. That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the calm, however. Grabbing his water bottle, Tadashi walked out of the shop doors, sitting against the wall that faced the sidewalk and street. Briefly, he wondered if he looked homeless before waving away the thought. He had on his uniform, he was literally _right_ outside the building, and no one would pay attention to him either way.   
_God, it was so hot._ His hair was falling down into his eyes, using a grease stained hand to push them back. He’d been meaning to get it cut for months now. There was just no time for anything anymore. Wednesday was his only free-ish day. Technically, he _could_ have more free days, but he _liked_ to work. Group hardly counted as no work, anyway. Sitting up straight, listening to advice, sitting through the occasional outburst of tears from some new member or person going through it… _ugh._

_ Athletes with Injuries  _ had a hard mix of men and women either giving up on dreams or trying too hard to get everyone else involved with theirs. He’d been an “outstanding member” (someone who just always showed up) since he dropped out of school and moved back to Japan. Living with his parents was unpleasant. They had him go to a therapist that got him to open up about the morphine addiction and mental struggle that came with figuring out what he was going to do with his life after volleyball. Since he lived on his own now and therapists were no longer a concern of his paycheck, he didn’t  _ have  _ to go. Daichi would kick his ass if he didn’t, however. The greatest motivation a man could get. 

Group made him sad, he’d figured. 

Not for himself,  _ god no.  _ Tadashi was trying to quit the self-pity. It was sad to see people in scenarios like Daichi’s. His story was that he was some up-and-coming pole vaulter. Trained for the Olympics so hard it became his own personality trait. During some outdoor practice during the summer, he had a heat stroke and it left his right leg useless and ended his career. Tadashi always bit his tongue when they mentioned sports. After he himself recovered from his injury, he quit because he was too scared to fail. Daichi was forced to quit. It felt like comparing a splinter to an axe stuck in someone’s chest. Probably a good thing that group was the only place they spoke about that, then. 

_“Alright, everyone. We have a new member today.” Takeda waved him to stand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”_ _  
__Tadashi would actually rather die, but feeling morally obligated to, he got up from his chair and shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. “Okay, um, I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi. I’m twenty…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say._

_ “Are you comfortable telling us about your story? What happened and where you are today?” The man smiled at him, but he blinked back in confusion.  _

_ Part of him wanted to make a sarcastic joke about this not being a slam poetry club, but he held his tongue. “Alright. I was, uh, playing volleyball in America. During a game, I got shoved really hard onto the court. Ended up fracturing my spine and needed surgery.” One of the people in the circles was making eye contact. The young man was much more attractive than Tadashi had expected to see in a support group. “Got some pretty cool screws in my back as a souvenir.” He awkwardly swayed from the balls of his feet to his heels, fiddling with his hands. The small group laughed quietly at his statement. “And, I, um, I’m here now.”  _

_ Takeda thanked him for sharing, inviting him to sit back down. The attractive man was still looking over, a nice smile on his face. He felt close to blushing, not sure if it was from the public speaking or the young man.  _

_ The rest of his first meeting went alright. It was okay. Nothing exhilarating, nothing dreadfully boring. People talking about how they coped with no longer playing sports or how physical therapy was going felt a little cliche for some reason, but he could relate. He understood how it felt.  _

_“Hey.”_ _  
__He jumped, missing the coin slot of the vending machine and dropping his money. Tadashi turned around, red faced and caught red-handed being a clutz. The attractive man stood behind him- er, well,_ sat… behind him. _He sat in a wheelchair, now reaching with a shaking hand for the coins Tadashi had dropped._

_ “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”  _

_“No, no, it’s okay it isn’t your fault. You just surprised me.”_ _  
__They both collected the coins, his face burning. This was the absolute worst way to meet anyone ever. After dropping the money into his hand, the man rolled back a bit._

 _“Sorry, again. Shouldn’t have snuck up on you. Yamaguchi, right?”_ _  
__He nodded, desperately hoping his blush wasn’t that obvious. “Yeah, yup. That’s- uh, that’s me.”_

_ “I’m Daichi Sawamura. It’s nice to meet you.”  _ _   
  
_

If Tadashi had known befriending Daichi would open up a can of worms that spouted out about responsibility and such, he never would have done such. 

_ Nah, that wasn’t true. _

Even if he chewed his ear off about smoking and living a healthy lifestyle and yadda yadda yadda… he _was_ his best male friend. He never judged Tadashi, not like anyone else did. Yeah, he disapproved of some stuff, but not the important things. Not the, uh, the _gay_ thing. 

_ God,  _ Tadashi wanted to throw up when he thought about how Daichi was the first guy he had a crush on after moving back to Japan. It wasn’t  _ his  _ fault that he had been an attractive guy who seemed interested in him, friendly or not. It was  _ however,  _ his fault when he decided to assume things. 

_ Gross, gross, gross, gross.  _

Scrunching up his face and shaking his head, he tried to forget the memory. The past was horrendous. Horrendously horrendous. Horrendously, horrendously, horrendo-

“Hey, sewers!” 

_ Oh for FUCK’S sake.  _

Someone slapped their hand on his shoulder, a little too hard to be friendly. “On your break a little early, don’t you think?” 

Abe was the worst of his co-workers. One of those people whose parents didn’t pay them enough attention, now the most obnoxious asshole he’d ever dealt with. He’d started the sewer rat joke, one of the most unoriginal and unfunny bits he’d ever heard. The fact that Tsukishima had to see him do so had almost sent another spiral of shame. 

“I actually finished my projects, unlike you guys.” With a grip tightening around his water bottle, he stood up. Maybe he could just walk to the back and avoid them. 

Another hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back.  _ Nope.  _ Yoshida was his second cousin, actually. They were in the same boat, employed by their uncle due to complicated family issues. Normally, they would get along, having some sympathy for each other. This year, he’d become more of an asshole, following around Abe like his bitch. 

“What, callin’ us lazy? Isn’t that more of an American trait? Wouldn’t you know that?” Yoshida had yet to let go of his shirt. Fight or flight was starting to kick in, heart rate rising. 

_ Stop.  _

_ Stop.  _

_ Stop.  _

With a grin, Abe put one hand on his hip. “C’mon, lighten up, sewers. Aren’t guys like you supposed to be fun?”   
If his hand tightened around his water even more, the skin on his knuckles would tear. “Guys like me?” 

“Y’know, poofs.”    
  


Hands bruised easier than he’d originally thought. The angry red marks along his knuckles were sore to the touch. It was addicting to press down and feel the pain, looking down at the colour rather than his uncle. 

“We can’t excuse you for self-defense,” Shimida sighed, rubbing his temples. 

Tadashi’s eyes shot up from where he sat on the break room couch. “Are you kidding me? That should have been counted as harassment. Why isn’t _that_ the offense?”   
“You know why.” His voice was quiet on that last part, hardly above a whisper. 

He stared at him, how he leaned against the coffee machine pretending to keep his cool.  _ Yeah _ , he knew why. No words came from his mouth, leaving them both in silence. 

“I don’t have any other choice, right now. Just take a break, alright? Take two weeks off.” After removing his glasses to wipe them on his shirt, Shimida met his eyes. “Tadashi, I’m afraid of him going to authorities. It’d be his word against yours.”   
“Fine!” he snapped, “I’ll just go.” 

Tadashi got up angrily, knowing he was right. That was the worst part, just dealing with it because it was “right”. He was tired. He hated this. He hated his luck. Any other guy his age didn’t have to deal with this type of shit. 

“Don’t be a child.” Was the last thing he heard before slamming the door and storming out of the building. He wanted him to be an adult?  _ Fine.  _ Tadashi would be an adult. 

A part of him wanted to blame Japan. Really, nowhere else was much better unless he planned on moving to the middle of Sweden (he’d already considered it, Swedish was too difficult to learn). America seemed fine at least. During his time in New York, Tadashi had dated a lot of people and got comfortable doing so. Then he found himself stuck with either a bunch of repressed or confused guys his age, everyone just wanting to experiment. There were two things he’d learned from that experience: the title “easy” was very, well…  _ easy  _ to gain, and always…  _ always  _ ask people beforehand whether they’re clean or not. 

HPV wasn’t a university memory he wanted in the highlight reel of his life. 

It took every cell in his body not to just pack up and leave again. New York City was his religion, it was the city of dreams after all. He could go back and get a boring office job on Wall Street or something, perfect his English, and get married for Christ’s sake. It wasn’t perfect, he knew that, but it wasn’t here. That’s the only thing that mattered. 

_ Was gay marriage legal on the moon?  _ Tadashi ran his fingers along the bruises, not feeling a single ounce of remorse for the broken nose he’d caused.  _ Maybe I should get married on the moon.  _

He didn’t even have anyone to marry. It wasn’t that hard to find gay men in Tokyo, it was just difficult finding people he liked. People he wanted to stick with. Not just the occasional suck-and-fuck or one-time date that he felt like he’d done a million times. It was the same kind of nice restaurant, or hipster cafe, or foreign film cinemas. Even if they were nice, and even if the date went fine, he just couldn’t find the spark. 

That was around the time he ran into Tsukishima at RedBast. 

Club culture was a hit or a miss with him. Tadashi  _ really  _ enjoyed getting faded. That was no surprise. Being around other people who enjoyed the same scared him, though. He and Hitoka both went out around twice a month, though, just to have fun. She was nervous around people too, but after a few drinks or the occasional nicotine rush, it was easier for her to have fun. Dressing up was fun too. He liked to feel hot in a place where no one would really judge him for looking hot (on the occasion. There was an incident a few years ago that resulted in a black eye and hiding behind a building’s dumpster just to live to see another day). Those heeled boots were a risk, a risk he liked. It hurt to suck dick in them though, he found. Tadashi was still shaky, throat sore, as he bought his beer and ran into Tsukishima. His night was alright before then. This bear of a man had said some very nice things to him on the dance floor before leading him to the bathrooms. It couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes, but it was enough to make his jaw sore and legs wobbly. Hitoka had sent him a text saying she had found a female friend and they went out to find a late-night restaurant or something. That was when he saw him stumbling over, eyes widened, and so obviously gone. 

_“Hmmm,” Tsukishima hummed out, one of his long arms slung across Tadashi’s for support as they walked down the empty pavement. “Sucks that we can’t really see the stars, huh?”_ _  
__He kept his grip on his wrist and around the small of his back,_ Jesus, _he was heavy. Carrying around crossed dudes who could hardly walk was not his new favourite hobby. “I dunno, I never really look.”_ _  
__“That’s just ‘cuz you’re used to not seeing them. The city does that to you, huh?”_

_ “I guess so.”  _

_ It was easy to just gaslight all of his gone ramblings. He’d go on and on about the heeled boots Tadashi was wearing and then about some guy he lived with (his brother, he decided made the most sense), and stars. He was stupid really, for liking the ramblings. The dude he met at the garage was both the same and not as the dude he was carrying to his home right now. Tsukishima from the garage was fidgety and had the worst case of resting bitch face, yet seemed  _ very  _ nervous talking to Tadashi. This version of Tsukishima was calm and talkative, even if it was about light-pollution and his roommate/brother using milk in his cereal despite being lactose intolerant. It was cute, he decided. Tsukishima was cute.  _

__ Now, of course, he wanted to throw his phone across the room thinking about him. There was very little reason for him to have liked Tsukishima. He was quiet and nervous, never talking about his personal life, and then showed up one night begging him to take nearly a quarter-million yen worth of LSD-laced shrooms before kissing him  _ on drugs _ .  _ Then  _ he lies about not knowing Hitoka when really had  _ fucking sex  _ with her and called her a bitch after leading her on. Actually, scratch what Tadashi thought earlier. There was  _ no  _ reason to like Tsukishima Kei. None at all.

So why was he cursed to feel that spark? To get excited when they would hang out or bump into each other. Why  _ him  _ of all the fuck-ups in Tokyo? 

His guilt beat back into his brain, over and over again. 

_ Ba-bum _

_ Ba-bum _

_ Ba-bum _

He sat up from his position on the kitchen floor, taking the occasional hit on his bong and painting a new floor tile. His fingertips were covered in navy blue and black paint from the picture. It was a clear, starry sky.  _ Kinda looked like shit _ . With a sigh, he stood up and walked to his shoe stand at the front of his house.

_ Ba-bum _

_ Ba-bum _

_ Ba- _

“Shut the fuck up!” Tadashi yelled into his empty home, slamming the front door with a huff. He was  _ tired  _ of the guilt. 

Daichi’s music store was a comfort. It was the only place nearby where he could find well-priced cassettes, and well… it had Daichi. 

“No work today?” The man called from his place at the cash register, lowering the newspaper he read. 

“Just felt like skipping,” Tadashi walked over, crossing his arms onto the counter and resting his head on top. 

His friend gave him a suspicious look. “That doesn’t sound very much like you. What happened?” 

“Can’t hide anything from you, huh?” The look hardened. He sighed dramatically. “I got into a fight at work. Two weeks off so my uncle doesn’t kick my ass.” 

“Mhm. You really gotta work on your temper.”   
“I didn’t start it.”   
“You didn’t have to continue it.” 

“Eh, whatever.”   
A customer that had been watching the television mounted on the wall waved at them. “Hey, could you turn it up? It’s about the big drug bust.”   
Daichi picked up the remote, increasing the volume. Some “breaking news” update was playing over the usual music channel he kept on. Neither two at the counter cared for a moment, Tadashi fiddling with the business cards and Daichi returning to his newspaper. 

_“Furthering the case of popular media reporter, Hinata Shouyou, has led to one of the many drug busts of the summer. Upturning over six kilograms of cannabis, four kilograms of methylenedioxymethamphetamine, and a currently unknown amount of LSD. So far there have been six arrests and one complicated case involving a local radio station DJ, Tsukishima Kei-”_ _  
_ At nearly the same time, both his and Daichi’s heads shot up to stare at the television. 

“ _-overdosing during his shift. Now in an alive, but serious condition in medical care._ ”   
With wide eyes, he continued to watch the news station show pictures of the arrests. He couldn’t recognize any of them, but the pictures of Tsukishima and the “crime scene” burned into his memory. 

_ Tsukishima wasn’t dead.  _

_ Tsukishima wasn’t dead.  _

_Jesus, I’m not going to be the one dying in a prison riot, huh?_ _  
_ “Oh no,” Daichi said softly, “he was a really good guy.” 

The news story ended. A well-timed drug abuse PSA came on right after. Those had been common lately, understandably so now. 

“Use that as motivation.” 

Tadashi had trouble tearing his eyes away from the television. “You can’t get addicted to marijuana, y’know.”   
His regular telling-off didn’t get to continue, the front door slamming open. A man around Daichi’s age came in, facial features showing a struggle to hold back tears. _One of his friends,_ was his guess as Daichi grabbed his cane and got up a little too quickly. Despite his momentum making him wobble, he was quick to catch the man in a hug. Tadashi didn’t know much about his friends or relationships, even though they themselves had been friends for around five years now. As he started to cry into Daichi’s shoulder, he decided he needed to turn around and not listen.

_ Not listen.  _

_ Not fucking listen.  _

_ Oh my god, he was eavesdropping again.  _

“It’s- god, first I- I g-get called in at, at midnight. I trusted- trusted him, so much, and he, he looked _dead._ I thought he was _dead,_ Daichi.”   
“I know, I know.”   
“A-and now, now Nishinoya’s be-been arrested and… and I’m losing all- all my employees, but I, I feel like I’m losing fa-family.” 

It felt dirty to listen. Absolutely rotten to hear this man’s plight. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched him with his eyes scrunched shut, tears leaking out. He was an evil piece of shit for listening, but he couldn’t stop. 

“It’ll be okay. Things are bad right now, but they’ll be okay.”   
“I should have been _ta-talking_ to, to them. I should have asked if things- if things were okay when I knew he was drinking at work. Daichi, I could have _helped._ ”   
The man pulled away, swiping his fingers under his eyes to wipe away tears. His glance met Tadashi’s, caught right in the act of listening in. His mouth began moving before he could think over whether it was ethical or not to ask. 

“You’re the manager at 113.1?”   
His brows furrowed. “What, are you another fuckin’ reporter?”   
Daichi put a hand on his shoulder, “Suga, no, Yamaguchi is a friend.” After saying so, he sent a stern shake of the head in his direction. That should have stopped him. 

It didn’t. “Do you have the mix from that night? Where, um…” his voice trailed off, Daichi dropping his head in frustration. 

Suga looked at him like he was a right moron. “I didn’t make it that night. Why do  _ you  _ care?” There was a bite in his words. 

“He, uh, he said it was for me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry i wanted to upload this sooner but VERY bad week oh my god i want to bury myself in a hole and decompose in peace  
> anyway so there were six arrests but SUM1 got away oohoohoo mystery (just kidding that's just a random plot point that i need to point out cuz it was small)   
> tysm for reading for the comments and kudos, very sweet of yall 
> 
> make sure you're washing your hands, staying home, and staying healthy. be safe, homies
> 
> i'll cya next time^^


	3. fate is a stand-up comedian

- _Is burning shrooms harmful?_

_-Does burning LSD release fumes?_

_-Do police monitor fumes in the air?_

_-Can fumes be tracked to your house?_

Tadashi’s search history was probably fucked as he sat on the couch, glancing up at the fireplace. On one hand, he could burn a quarter-million yen worth of drugs in his home and have the whole thing be over with. On the other… well, he wasn’t sure.

All he really knew was that the guilt of those shrooms beat in sync with the tumultuous ticking of his clock he had yet to change for daylight savings. All he knew was that no matter what he did, it beat into the back of his skull. It beat until he wanted to rip his consciousness out and be a mindless robot. No, maybe he didn’t kill Tsukishima. But he could have. 

“ _Furthering the recent drug bust has been two trials out of the six, although there have been hints at a seventh possible arrest...”_

The news reporter droned on about how the interrogation stories had been conflicting, some mentioning another member in the ring of possession and some saying this was everybody. Just like the story had every other day, it went back over the sequence of events involving Tsukishima. The anonymous caller, the family trying to keep the news away, a “serious yet stable” condition. It was weird to know he was a part of all this, yet lived a separate life that was hardly involved. 

Any more of this, and he’d start to be unnerved to hell and back. 

_“He, uh, he said it was for me.”_

_Ugh._

Inwardly cringing at himself, Tadashi flung an arm over his eyes. _Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it._ Everything played on repeat in his head. The look on Suga’s face, the look on _Daichi’s_ face, the way he got looked up and down, just… _ugh._

_“You?” Suga’s stance changed, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to appear more… annoyed?_

_This had been a bad idea. He knew now. Why couldn’t he just hold his tongue? Tadashi nodded slowly, fiddling with his fingers._

_“How am I supposed to believe that?” His expressions were easy to read, unlike the sea of people around him that constantly stayed indecipherable. “I’m just supposed to give you the mix ‘cuz you claim it was for_ you?”   
_He swallowed. “I… I was the anonymous caller. That… called the police.” Daichi raised his eyebrows. “Look, you don’t have to believe me, but he said it was for me. He referenced a place we hung out at. I just wanted to know what he had… put together.”_

_His weight shifted to the other side. Sympathy, disbelief, belief, empathy. “I have the drive at the station. They didn’t count it as evidence. If you… wanted it,” he waved his arm to the side, “just stop by in the afternoon sometime.”_

  
  


Glancing up from his arm, he could see the clock that was constantly an hour ahead. It was five o’clock- er, four in the afternoon. Three days since the interaction with Suga at the music store. Was his offer still acceptable? The only way to find out was to go, really. It still felt unideal, nerves churning his stomach. He couldn’t get the way Suga had originally glared at him out of his memory. Did he even want the mix? 

_What if it’s just no big deal?_ Staring outside the window of the train, Tadashi counted the amount of stops he had left. _It’s not like he left some secret code._

Just opening up the possibility of a secret code derailed his train of thought after that. For three stops, he imagined a secret message or address hidden in the music. Tsukishima not actually having overdosed, instead hiding out somewhere. Tadashi would get the mix and spend days decoding the whole thing, finally cracking it in the middle of the night and running away from life to go on an adventure. Something that would make everything feel like the best part of a movie forever. As he got off the train, he pictured the two backpacking through Europe, completely unbothered to the rest of the universe. 

He’d never been to the radio station. Everything he knew about it had come from Hitoka’s stories about love confessions she’d gotten from in-callers and how she almost deleted the evening mix on her second day. The building wasn’t huge _or_ crowded. Upon entering the glass front door, he saw an empty waiting room of sorts. At the front desk sat a man with short, light hair, reading a magazine and not acknowledging Tadashi’s entrance at all. With nerves once again swirling around his stomach, he walked up and waited for the man to look at him. 

His glance shifted to him. “Can I help you with something?” 

“Yes, um, is there a Suga here?” 

“Sugawara?” The man looked back to read the clock on the wall. “He left maybe an hour ago. Were you here for the job interview?” 

In the back of his mind, he remembered how Suga had cried over losing two employees. “No, um, he said he could give me something. A flash-drive.”   
He got up from the chair and set down the magazine, revealing a name tag that read, ‘Yaku’. “I can call him, he mentioned something like that. Just give me a minute.” As he began to dial a number into the phone, Tadashi heard the door jingle open. 

Turning to look, he was a little surprised to see Hitoka. She was just as surprised, eyes widening. It shouldn’t have been so awkward to see his best friend, but their little stand-off felt even worse than trying to call Kita just to talk as friends. Her eyes fell to the floor, looking away as she started to walk towards the employees-only door. 

_Ah. So the fight continues._

_What are we even fighting about?_ _  
_With her hand on the doorknob, she paused and looked back at him. “Tadashi?” Her voice was small, as though she was speaking to a stranger rather than him.

He raised his eyebrows at the break in their silence. “Yeah?” 

“Can you meet me at my apartment? After my shift?” 

It was hard to suppress a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 

She gave a soft smile back before going inside. Tadashi turned back to the front desk, drumming his fingers on the counter with happy butterflies in his stomach. Yaku continued to speak quietly on the phone, hanging up after making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with him. 

“You’re Yamaguchi?” 

“Yes, that’s- uh, that’s me.”   
He rifled through a drawer in the desk, finally pulling out a plastic bag holding a small flash-drive. Yaku held it out to him expectantly. He took the bag, exchanging an awkward thanks before leaving. It was his. Whatever was in it, secret code or not, it was made for him. His grip around it tightened as he left the station, conflicting thoughts battling it out in his head.

_Did he really want this?_

  
  


Hitoka’s apartment was small, but cute. She was big into house-plants, cramming them in every empty space to brighten things up. There were paintings she’s done hanging on the wall with photographs of family and friends. Hitoka struggled with her two jobs, always being out. Honestly, it was rare that she was able to settle and feel comfortable at home. She worked as an animator under her mom’s company when she wasn’t working at the radio station. They’d talked before about how she should probably pick one and stick with it, but she could just never decide. 

As he stood in front of her door, Tadashi suddenly felt nervous butterflies again. He trusted her more than any other person, but what if something went wrong? He was so tired of this weird fight they were having. With a sigh, he rang the doorbell and waited patiently. 

She was quick to open the door, hair still wet from a shower. “You came! Oh my gosh, I was worried you wouldn’t” 

The smile came back as she moved to let him inside. “I missed you a lot,” he said, slipping off his shoes. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room and onto her canary-yellow couch. 

“I missed you too.” They sit like they normally would, Tadashi on the right half and her on the left. She tucks her feet under her and reaches out, grabbing his hands. “I’m so sorry this happened, Tadashi! I should’ve told you who it was, I’m so sorry!” 

There were tears in her eyes as he clasped her hands back. “No, I’m sorry. I should have told you when I almost started a thing with him.” 

“ _Please,_ let’s never fight again.”   
“Agreed.”   
She threw her arms around his neck, and buried her face into his shoulder, apologizing over and over again. He shifted to lean against the armrest, legs across the rest of the couch. Tadashi let her ramble on, his own arms holding her into a comfortable hug. Over the time they’d been friends, he’d learned that sometimes you just had to let her get it out before saying anything. 

His shirt was damp where her eyes were, he’d noticed when she had finished her long string of apologies for ignoring him and getting mad and jealous and other things she didn’t need to apologize for. After giving her a pat to the head, her grip tightened slightly around his neck. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”   
“I feel like it is.”   
“Nah, never be sorry about a man making you sad.”   
As Hitoka looked up at him with her big brown eyes, chin quivering. “You shouldn’t do the same either. He played both of us. He’s a piece of shit for that.”   
“Yeah,” he huffed out a quiet laugh, “definitely.”   
On the occasion, Tadashi wished he was straight. He wished he could wake up and be in love with her and feel for her like he did for guys. In his early twenties, she was his beard for maybe a year and a half. The two pretended to date when he was scared of his family finding out. Scared of things going wrong. She was the one that gave him the strength to come out and live his life without feeling like he needed to hide. Tadashi did genuinely love her, but he could live such an easier life if he was _in_ love with her. Then again, he wasn’t really looking for easy. 

They continued to talk, fill each other in on what had happened in their lives in the past three weeks. Hitoka talked about her work place and how they had two seminars on drug abuse, one of her friend’s boyfriends getting arrested for drug possession, and how she got intimidated by a guy at work asking her out so she made up an excuse about yoga classes but now actually attends very late-night yoga classes. He told her about what had happened at work. 

“Oh my god, you punched him?” She asked, eyes wide with admiration. 

“Yeah, see?” He showed her his bruised hand. She took it in her own looking over the bruise. 

“You should ice it so it heals faster,” Hitoka’s glance flickered up, “I’m proud of you, though. You wouldn’t have done that a month ago.”   
“Just got tired of being pushed around.” 

“Took you long enough.” 

They both grinned at each other and he changed his mind. Didn’t matter if it was harder being himself, being able to love her at all was the best part of his life. 

At around two in the morning, Tadashi found it impossible to sleep. He laid on his side, still in her bed. It wasn’t uncommon that the two slept together like this, her on her stomach with her arms tucked underneath her, him facing the other direction onto his side, hugging a pillow. From an early age, he learned that hugging a pillow kept his body from starfishing across the other people he slept with. He’d also learned that he was normally one of the heaviest sleepers he knew, never having to wake up during periods of the night. 

Yet _somehow,_ here he was, staring at her bathroom door completely unable to even _think_ about sleeping. 

It was dark in her small room, only occasionally being lit by the lights of a car driving by shining through the window. He tried to pinpoint what one of the photographs was in the dim lighting. Either it was them on his twenty-second birthday, or it was a picture of a horse. As another car drove by, it was proven to be them, even though in the back of his head he already knew. 

Tadashi was still wearing the clothes he had worn here, a t-shirt and pair of jeans. Both Daichi _and_ Hitoka threw fits about that, the sleeping in jeans. He saw little problem with it, when he was tired he could sleep in just about anything. Jeans were comfortable, what was so wrong with sleeping in them? Now, however, all he could do was pinpoint the flash-drive in his pocket and how it felt to rest his weight on it. He hadn’t brought it up with her, their conversation about Tsukishima ending after the apologies. Should he have brought it up?   
_You shouldn’t hide things from her._

 _It isn’t hiding. How do I even know she knows about the… er, what happened?_ _  
__Okay, well first of all, they worked in the same place and secondly, anyone who’s watched the news or listened to the radio for the past two weeks knows._

_She didn’t bring it up._

_No one wants to go from “he’s an asshole” to “so how about that overdose?”, dude._

_You’re right._

_Obviously._

He turned onto his back with a sigh, staring at the ceiling instead. Hitoka’s soft breathing was a comfort, but he instantly felt guilt for hiding things. The shrooms, the mix… it was just too much. It took a few minutes of quiet planning, but Tadashi got out of the bed, sneaking into the main area of her apartment. Just like her bedroom, it was dark and peaceful. 

The couch felt lonelier at night than he’d originally figured. He ran his hands along the fabric, eventually hitting the cellphone he’d left there. The blue glow from the screen was a little too bright, eyes adjusted for the dark by now. Tadashi leaned against the armrest, legs stretched out along the couch like he’d been earlier. His only notifications were from a bank notice email and Daichi. Clicking on the latter, he found a text with an article attached about the negative effects that came from smoking weed. 

**t:** thanks officer

A text back came almost immediately

**daichi:** Why are you awake? Go to bed.

It was annoying, the way he used perfect punctuation and such whilst texting. 

**t:** says you

As he watched the three little dots popping up, Tadashi started to feel a little bad. He knew Daichi had really awful insomnia and sleep issues. They’d talked about it before, him suggesting maybe some form of PTSD from what happened. Daichi denied it, claiming that was for people who’d actually had trauma in their past and that he was “perfectly alright” after the initial first two years. 

**daichi:** Just go back to bed. Blue-light at night is incredibly bad for your eyes. 

There was a short pause before the three dots came up again. 

**daichi:** Are you free tomorrow?   
  


A smile came to his face, typing back a “yeah” and listening to his friend make plans with him. It really was nice that they were close. That Daichi was never weird about him. He overly treated him like a normal person with all the nagging and such, but it was nice. The two texted a goodnight of sorts, him exiting the chat to stare at his wallpaper. It was an old picture, one of the view from the top of the Statue of Liberty. He’d gone when he was nineteen with the school’s volleyball team. Everyone tried racing each other to the top, leaving the group completely exhausted and laughing when they (slowly) reached the crown. The first dude he’d ever had want to experiment with him, continued to drop little flirty hints here and there, touching him _constantly._ It all had made his heart flutter around in his chest, having this handsome wing spiker persistently have a hand on his shoulder or smile at him like he was the only person in the sea of tourists. 

Tadashi had since learned that straight boys loved to toy around with his feelings. 

He went into his contacts, just scrolling up and down like it was a game. There were only maybe fifteen in total, half of those he never talked to and one being a take-out place he frequented at. Pausing to look at Tsukishima’s contact made him feel sick to his stomach. There was no photo for him, but somehow it still felt like he was staring right back through the screen. It was menacing, almost. The flash-drive felt more prominent in his pocket, uncomfortable and sticking into his hip. 

_Yeah_ , he was going to go crazy just sitting around. 

The night sky really was covered, he’d thought to himself an hour into his walk home. Hitoka’s apartment was around ten kilometres away from his house. At nearly four in the morning, there was nobody outside, not really. It was Sunday morning, most of the clubbers were already headed home. 

_All the sinners gone home to pray._

Despite the slight chill in the air, Tadashi felt as though he could be out here forever. It wasn’t that dark, not really. There wasn’t a single star in the sky to appreciate. Yeah, maybe he had never really looked before, but there was still a pit in his stomach when all he could see were clouds. His pace slowed to a halt, sentiment taking over. Everything was so peaceful at this hour. Tadashi couldn’t _stand_ it. Maybe it was technically loitering, but he sat down onto the steps of the nearest closed pharmacy. He rested his elbows on his knees, confused emotions obscuring his thought process. Tadashi attempted to sort out what he knew was bothering him. 

  1. He didn’t kill Tsukishima. He _almost_ killed him, though. He let him walk away and almost die.
  2. Tsukishima was going to rot in prison after getting over the OD. 
  3. Tadashi liked him a _lot._
  4. It was so exhausting being alive. 



The sound of loud chatter echoed down the street, bringing him to reality. Someone was walking down the side of the street he was on. _Ugh._ There was no point in getting up now. Maybe putting his head in his hands would make him more ignorable. Maybe he could avoid getting mugged this time. Maybe Tadashi was about to get shanked and die and he’d _deserve_ it. 

“Hey, man, you alright?”   
Tadashi’s head shot up from his arms, squinting at the group in front of him. That was the very moment he decided the universe had a bizarre sense of humour. 

It was the same trio from the bar. The band that had argued over drugs or something. The band that had the guy who asked him about Tsukishima. One of them had gotten down, resting on the balls of his feet, elbows on his knees. His hair was incredibly blue at the tips, visible even in this lighting. The man’s eyes were wide and curious as he cocked his head and stared at him. 

He blinked. “Uh, yeah. Just thinking.”   
“Eehh? At this hour?” 

The universe had a very, _very_ bizarre sense of humour. Very. Tadashi nodded. “Yeah, needed to clear my head. Why else are people out this early?” 

The man looked up at one of his friends, the one with winged eyeliner and very long lashes. For a dude, he was really, really pretty. “Is it that early Akaashi? I thought you said we were staying out late.”   
“He means early in the morning. We did stay out very late.” The other man, Akaashi, explains in a very modulated tone. “Sorry for him bothering you, we should go.”   
The first man springs back to his feet, hands in the air. “Akaashi! Don’t be rude!” 

“It wasn’t rude. I was being polite.”   
“And _I_ just wanted to know if he was alright! What if he was going to kill himself” His head spun around almost faster than his body, looking down at Tadashi with genuine worry. “You’re not going to kill yourself, are you?”   
He smiles in amusement. “No, I wasn’t particularly planning on it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the third man staring at him, lips poised in a simper of sorts. The one from the bar. 

“Oh, thank god,” he runs a hand through his gelled-up blue as hell hair, “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you did.” 

“You don’t even know me.” 

“Doesn’t mean I still wouldn’t feel horrid! I would’ve walked past someone and let them die!” _Oh_. That stung. The man goes back down to his level, clasping Tadashi’s hands within his own. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou.”   
“Bokuto, you shouldn’t go around spreading your personal information to strangers.” Mr. Eyeliner muses softly. 

Tadashi looks Bokuto in the eyes, slightly intimidated. He’s a bit wild looking, but he’s still definitely very handsome. “I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi.” 

“See, Akaashi? Now I know Tadashi and we aren’t strangers.” The entire experience is surreal, and part of him wonders if he’s still asleep, merely dreaming in Hitoka’s bed. Before he can think further on it, Bokuto gives him a bone-crushing hug and once again gets back up in a high-energy manner. “Have a good night, Tadashi! Good luck on your thinking!” He and Akaashi start to leave, Bokuto continuing whatever conversation they’d had earlier. 

The third man lingers behind, hands in his jacket’s pockets. The smile left his lips as he looked down to Tadashi. “Sorry, he has a poor perception of boundaries.”   
“It’s okay.”   
He thinks he’s about to leave, but he rocks back on his heels and turns towards him once more. “You’re thinking about him?”   
_That’s it._

_He's had it._

“Who are you?” Tadashi finally snaps. “Why do you keep up this ‘all-knowing’ act? It’s creepy.” 

He scuffs his terribly kept sneakers on the pavement, thinking before responding. “Kuroo. That’s my name. Kei mentioned you briefly. Showed me a picture, sort of. Was almost jealous.”   
“Of what?” He wrung his hands, thinking about the touch that Bokuto gave them. He was scared of what his answer was about to be. 

“I dunno,” Kuroo rolled his head around his neck before leaning it back and looking up at the sky. “I figured that if he liked you enough, he’d opt to stay here instead of running away with us.” 

“Huh.” It was all he got out, slightly confused. 

The smile returned as Kuroo gave a half-assed wave. He finally walked, albeit too slow to fully catch up with the other two. “Well, see you around.”

They both knew that was a lie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay first of all aaaaaa i meant to finish this chapter like two days ago, but i got the chance to smoke up for the first time in two months and oops writing got majorly sidelined  
> also i missed my band babes. ive been doodling akaashi with the frosted tips lately. someone tell me it isnt the 90s so i get over this weird frosted tips phase.  
> tysm for reading and for the lovely kudos and comments. yall are so sweet for taking the time to read thru this mess, i heavily appreciate it
> 
> make sure you're washing your hands, staying home, and staying healthy. be safe, homies. i'll cya next time^^


	4. fugitive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: very brief mentions of suicide

“So,” Tadashi digs a french fry into his milkshake, “what was the occasion? Is the store closed this week?”   
Daichi sits next to him on the park bench, swirling around a spoon in his own cup of ice cream. “Getting the walls repainted. They started looking…”   
“Old? Moldy? Haunted house-esque?” 

He gets an elbow to his side. “Shut up. It’s an old building.”   
“Not as old as you.”   
“You are the worst.”   
It’s a lovely Monday afternoon. Late July always is nice, especially since the blaring heat begins to recoil over time. Fall was going to come in about a month or two, an event Tadashi was looking forward to. Summer was beginning to burden his psyche. He was currently running on about two hours of sleep, but the food was rebooting his system. 

“Imagine being boring and getting coffee ice cream,” he says with the fry-milkshake duo in his mouth. 

“Imagine being fat and eating that monstrosity." Daichi is quick to shoot back, slipping the beige ice cream into his mouth. 

Tadashi looks at him with fake shock and hurt feelings. “You’ve damaged my pride. I must return to the Americas. They’d accept my innovations there.” 

“God, you’re weird.” His friend gives a single laugh, shoulders moving up with his smile. 

There’s a group of teenagers playing frisbee nearby. It’s cute, but saddens him. He’s not really young like them anymore. He feels like he wasted his youth. Being an adult is hard. He tries not to have the “it’s paying taxes until you die” mentality, but it’s easier to be nihilistic than not. Finding the meaning to life or whatever is too much extra stress on being alive. 

“Who was that guy? The one who came to the shop the other day,” Tadashi finally decides to ask about.  _ Suga _ , he thinks. 

“My friend, Suga.”   
_Well, I know that much._ “You’ve never mentioned him before.”   
“Never really saw a reason to.” 

“Seemed awfully close.”   
Daichi turns his head and gives him a weird look. His mind-reading powers were aggravatingly accurate sometimes. “I’ve known him since I was a kid.” The next bit came quick and quiet, like a slip of a thought that he wasn’t totally supposed to hear, but also understand. “I’m not like you.”   
_Cool._ He pretends not to hear it. _Cool, cool, cool. Thanks for that one. I already knew that. Thank you for clarifying._

_ Don’t get mad at him.  _

_ Piss off.  _

They go back to quietly eating ice cream. He stabs the top of the milkshake with another fry, struggling not to let the frown appear on his face. It does anyway. 

“About that, though,” Daichi clears his throat. Tadashi looks up, like he’s about to contradict the statement he just made and come out. “You told him you were the one that called the police. Is that true?”   
There was a twinge of disappointment, but it was honestly a bit obvious that whatever he was thinking wouldn’t have been the case. “Yeah,” he nods, “I was listening to the radio and uh…”   
It hurt to remember. It made the sweet and salty mixture in his stomach want to come back up, thinking about that night. Hearing what he thought was a literal death over the radio just made him want to blow chunks. 

“...I called anonymously.”   
“And you’re not related to the drug bust at all?”   
Now it’s time for _him_ to give Daichi a weird look. “No? My only connection would be the phone call, I guess. But even with that, they don't count me in. Anonymous bit, and all.”   
“Mhm.”   
“You don’t believe me?” 

He pulled the spoon for his mouth, eyes forward. “Nah, problem is I’ll always believe you a little too much.”

“You’re the only one.”   
Daichi laughed, but it wasn’t really a joke. 

_ Tadashi had always liked September.  _

_ He liked the warmer clothes, the beginnings of fall, the way everything felt a bit more… alive. He’d accidentally made September his “coming-out” month. Last week, he had told his parents and sisters. This week, well…  _

_ Shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pockets kept them from visibly shaking. All he wore nowadays were hoodies. They were his emotional protector, keeping from harm and hiding him when he needed it. And of course, there was the physical protection. Tadashi really hated people seeing his body after the surgery.  _

_“The sunset is really pretty over the water,” Daichi said as the two made their way over the bridge. Below was a river, one that he and his sisters used to swim in when they were little. “It’s very picturesque.”_ _  
__He hummed a response, stopping his strolling pace to wait for his friend. The railing was too high for him to see sitting down in the wheelchair, but he seemed content looking through the bars. Tadashi tried not to feel bad. He hated pity._

_ His knees were about to start shaking. There was no reason to be nervous. He’d done this so many times before. Inhaling sharply, he was ready to begin his confession.  _

_“I think I’m going to start physical therapy,” he beat him to speaking, still looking out at the sunset over the river. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”_ _  
__A sad smile came to his face. He could wait ‘til another day._

Tadashi added another doodle to his shoes as he listened to the radio. He had yet to move it from his bedroom, but turning it on eased his nerves. There was very little negative space left on his skate shoes as he looked for a place to draw. A big English spelling of the word “sublime” stuck out from the rest of the doodles and kanji, which he thought looked kind of sick. His skate shoes were probably his favourite thing, even if he had never touched a skateboard in his life. 

From the bed, his phone pinged with a notification. Getting up from the floor was uncomfortable, an ache shooting up his spine. That wasn’t uncommon in his daily life. Smoking helped ease his aches and pains. 

**kita:** i made pizza if you want to come over for dinner sometime

That was code for “there’s a new batch ready if you’re trying to buy”, not a dinner invite. Tadashi had made that mistake when he first met the dealer, a story he tried not to think about. When the memory ran across his head, he wanted to set his own house on fire and then jump off a bridge.  _ So embarrassing.  _

**t:** sounds good

He was getting low on gas anyway. Plus, who knows? Maybe Kita had pizza this time after all. 

Kita didn’t live in the city. Well, he  _ did  _ live in Tokyo, but he lived in a big house on the outskirts of everything else. He inherited a construction company from his grandparents, making him both wealthy and having an easy coverup for his illicit farming. His home was maybe a twenty minute walk from the closest bus stop. With his earbuds in, this wasn’t much of an issue. Coming upon his house, Tadashi felt a bit of relief. The walk was mostly uphill and under the sun, he wanted to die. There was a heavy stack of bills in his wallet, weighing him down emotionally. As much as he depended on weed, he really did hate how it cut into his budget.

One of the rules for clients was that you weren’t allowed to use the doorbell. For whatever reason he had for this, it gave Tadashi enough time to regain his breath and perhaps not look like he just ran a marathon (even if it was just a twenty minute walk). 

“ _ Yamaguchi? _ ” Kita’s voice on the phone was prominent, although there were definitely other people in his house. 

“I’m outside,” he said, scuffing his shoes along the concrete steps. 

“ _ Alright. _ ” 

He hung up immediately as he always would, being there at the door not that long later. Kita cracked open the door, letting him into the hallway. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, waiting for him to take off his shoes. 

That was the first red flag. Immediately looking up with a surprised frown, Tadashi partially wondered if he imagined that. He’d never opened with that, instead almost always going straight into what he was selling and the pricing lists. 

“I’m going to strike you a deal, okay?” Kita led him into the kitchen. There were three other people he recognized as Kita’s friends. He picks up an already opened can of diet soda, taking a sip before speaking again. “If you can get him to leave, I’ll give you a thirty-percent discount.”   
Tadashi’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Holy shit. Holy shit, you’re kidding.”   
He shrugged, pointing over to a half-open sliding door. “Take a crack at it.”   
The other people in the kitchen quietly laughed, but he was quick to leave. A thirty-percent discount! _Thirty-percent!_ He went inside, gently closing the door behind him. All he had to do was get some guy to leave, right? Did that mean the room itself? Did he have to leave the house?   
Upon entering, it made itself more apparent. This was normally Kita’s social smoking room, a living room of sorts. Only a lamp was on, showing a sleeping bag and a cocoon of pillows with a young man inside against the wall. He blew a stream of smoke up towards the ceiling, adding to the already heavy stench of weed that hung in the room. He exhaled with closed eyes before dropping his head in Tadashi’s direction. 

“He’s still doing this? Christ…” His voice was soft and hoarse, like most anyone’s after long periods of smoking in one day. 

Although a little nervous now, Tadashi slowly made his way over. The man’s dark hair hung down on his forehead, messy and looking unwashed. He sat on the armchair near him, able to get a better look now. His blue eyes were rimmed with red with a matching pair of deep-set dark circles under his eyes. The man’s cheeks were thinned out, making him look like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. 

“Well, uh, hi,” he said, giving a weak smile. 

“Just get it over with,” he paused to inhale on the blunt in his hand, “what’s your plan?”   
He raised his eyebrows. “What?”   
“Like, what was your strat for getting me to leave? He’s done this at least six times. What’d he offer, twenty?”   
Tadashi swallowed. “Thirty.”   
The man’s eyes widened like his did. “Jesus. So what, brute force then? That’d be easiest.”   
Another frown came. “I’m not going to hurt you. Why won’t you leave?” He began to fidget with his fingers, unsure of what else to do. 

He inhaled on the blunt, leaning his head against the wall to form smoke rings. “I’m scared to.”   
_Ah. Not helpful, but also majorly concerning._ “Scared? Okay- wait, what’s your name?”   
Suspicion came into his gaze. “Kageyama.”   
“Okay, Kageyama, why is leaving scary?” He used his best therapist voice, thinking of his own. He just had to get him to talk about it. Otherwise, this would be too hard. 

“Why should I tell you?” Kageyama pushed his hair out of his eyes momentarily, letting his bangs fall back down. “I don’t even know you.”   
“Oh, um, I’m Yamaguchi. Now-”   
“Yamaguchi?” He interrupted him, a little disbelief in the way he said his name. 

“Yeah. Anyway, uh, can you tell me why it’s scary?” The fiddling with his fingers got worse. He started to pick and peel at his cuticles, making them bleed. 

“Fine.” He finished the rest of the blunt and took a sip from a bottle of water. “I need to fake my death.”   
_Excuse me?_ It takes him aback instantly, Tadashi’s eyes going wide again. “You what? Why?”   
“It’s either that or I get thrown in the clink.” 

His mouth hung open for a minute. The therapist act wasn’t expecting _that_ kind of answer. “What did you do, kill somebody?”   
Kageyama’s eyebrows knit together. “I sit here in a drug dealer’s home smoking weed, worried about prison, and you ask me if I killed somebody.” He sighs, the next bit so quiet it’s basically under his breath. “I might as well have, anyway.”   
There’s an uncomfortable silence, just as heavy in the air as the smoke. 

“Isn’t it poor planning to escape a drug related crime by staying in… your drug dealer’s house?” He finally asked, unable to stand the lack of conversation anymore. 

“Kita’s the only person I could think of that I’d have no traceable ties to.” 

Tadashi thinks for a minute. “A few years of jail time isn’t that bad. You can still live a normal life afterwards.” 

“I’d probably kill myself if I was in prison,” he says very bluntly with little feeling. 

“That’s not funny.”   
“Wasn’t supposed to be.” His eyes flicker to the uncomfortable look on his face. “Give up yet?”   
The weed isn’t in his mindset anymore. “No, I don’t like you talking like that. You don’t deserve to feel that way.” 

Kageyama’s eyes narrow. “You don’t even know me.”   
The remark instantly reminds him of the interaction he had with Bokuto this morning. 

_ “You don’t even know me.”  _

_ “Doesn’t mean I still wouldn’t feel horrid! I would’ve walked past someone and let them die!” _

It’s enough to make him act the same way. Getting down from the chair, Tadashi kneels next to his nest of pillows and clasps his hands within his own. “It doesn’t matter. I still care about you.”   
There’s about a million emotions that fly across Kageyama’s face. His eyes are filled with confusion, then anger, shame, finally landing on pain. “You’re willing to say anything for weed, huh?”   
He shakes his head. “Forget about the weed. I’m doing this because you shouldn’t have to feel this way. You shouldn’t have to feel like you need to be running away from everything. No one has to give up like that.” Saying it out loud reminds him of himself in the worst kind of way. 

“You don’t _know_ me,” he repeats. “You don’t know what I _did._ ” Kageyama’s voice keeps breaking. He’s unsteady, like a volcano before exploding. “I could have killed babies or some shit.”   
“You said it was a drug crime before.” Tadashi lets go of his hands and stands up. “Look, just come with me and we’ll figure something out. I just want to help.” 

With a sigh, he puts his hands in an-almost prayer position against his chin. Just like his own, his cuticles are ripped up and bleeding. “No wonder he likes you.” It’s soft and more to himself than Tadashi.   
_Who? Kita?_ He gives a weak laugh, waving away the comment. “Ha, not really. I just buy from him a lot.”   
Kageyama gives him a weird look, like he’s an idiot, before standing up. He’s tall, meeting near his own height, as well as too thin. Tadashi is instantly saddened by the way his clothes look like they’re hanging off of him. 

“Fine. I’ll leave. I’ll go find a bridge to live under.” He picks up the water bottle, starting to walk past him. 

“Wait! Wait!” Tadashi’s hands balled into fists. 

_ “I would’ve walked past someone and let them die!” _

_ “Daichi, I could have  _ helped. _ ” _

_ He wasn’t going to do this again.  _

“Kageyama, stop.” He watched as the man turned around, hand already on the door. “Just… at least come with me. You can stay at my house and uh…” his throat was _so_ dry, “we, uh, we can figure this out together. I’ll help you.”   
He was taking careful steps, climbing this volcano. Watching where he put his feet, cautious as to not set it off yet. All he needed was for it to trust him. 

Tadashi got stared down as he walked towards him. Kageyama’s unforgiving glare turned soft. “Are you serious?”   
“I’ll prove to you that you don’t need to do anything stupid.” It was a plea. Now close enough to touch, he set a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Trust me.”   
That he did. Kageyama gave a single nod, stepping back to instead let _him_ open the door. Tadashi nodded back, sliding it open and walking out with him shyly trailing behind. One of Kita’s friends elbowed the dealer, pointing with surprise. 

“Yo, he did it!” 

“Holy shit!”   
Kita’s mouth was open slightly, turning upwards into a smile. “Jesus, I didn’t think you’d be able to. Ready to buy, then?”   
He looked back at Kageyama, then at Kita with a shake of the head. “Oh, um, I’ll come another time. Don’t worry about it right now.”   
“You sure? If you take too long I could end up sold out. You’d have to wait another few months.” His arms were crossed, eyebrows poised suspiciously. 

“I’ll have to live, then.” With a smile and wave, he started to head down the hallway. The second pair of footsteps didn’t follow. Turning around, he could see Kageyama stopped where he’d previously stood, bowing. 

“Thank you for letting me stay. Sorry for the intrusion.” After the four men’s surprised silence, he stood back up straight and followed Tadashi. “Let’s go.”   
A small smile crawled onto his face, agreeing with a nod. “Yeah.” 

He’d gotten the volcano back to dormant. 

The walk to the bus stop was quiet, the only noise around them being the choir of cicadas and the sloshing of Kageyama’s water bottle. At around the halfway point, his companion inhaled sharply and spat out what must’ve been on his mind since their introduction. 

“You’re…” he keeps his eyes forward, “you’re the only person that I think I could trust right now.” 

His silence resumed after that, the two completely quiet for the rest of the journey home. Tadashi is bothered. Very bothered. He tried to make another list, anything to help. 

  1. He doesn’t get it. There were what, five? Six other people that tried? Why is _he_ the only one he could trust?
  2. There was a criminal next to him. He was going to let a criminal stay in his house. He’d opened up a can of worms and if anything bad happened from this, it would absolutely be his own fault.
  3. Kageyama didn’t have a wallet, so Tadashi had to pay for his bus and train tickets. 



Despite his annoyance at the third, the second thought stuck. It stuck really, _really_ hard. Tadashi knew he shouldn’t judge, but… maybe he _did_ kill babies. Jesus, what if he killed people too?   
_Did you just say babies aren’t people?_ _  
__Babies are_ hardly _people._

Refraining from suspicious side-glances was difficult. There was no need to stare. There was no need to stare. There was no need to- okay he  _ had  _ to stare. The more he thought about it, the more anxious he was getting. All they had in common was their dealer. Nothing else linked the two together, hell all he knew was his  _ name.  _ All he knew was his name and now he was going to let him stay in his home. His safe haven. This was it. Tadashi was going to get murdered, and it was going to be in his own home. 

Kageyama caught his side-glances often, yet didn’t say anything. It was suspicious. He couldn’t trust him. He couldn’t trust him at all.   
_“You’re the only person that I think I could trust right now.”_

God. What did that  _ mean _ ? Did Kageyama know something he didn’t?

He stuck the key to his house into the front door, trying to keep himself from shaking. The two hadn’t said anything to each other since the whole “trust” thing. Now, he had a virtual stranger behind him waiting to enter his house. Part of him expected a gun to his back the second he entered the dark house. Part of him expected to immediately get shot in the head, or something of that likeness. 

_ Goodbye, cruel world. Leave the rest of my weed to Yachi and my failures to Daichi. Allow me to let him down one more time.  _

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Kageyama uttered softly, sliding off his shoes and placing them neatly by the shoe rack. He turned to Tadashi. “If you want me to leave I can.”   
_YES! LEAVE!_ _  
_ “No,” he shook his head, “it’s alright.” Even if it was betraying his fight-or-flight, it was probably the right thing to do. 

There was a pause where Tadashi walked in ahead of him, the other unsure whether to follow or not. In the back of his mind, he compared the scenario to taking in a stray dog. _What would I do if I brought a dog home? Uh…_ Shots were out of the question, so what was next?   
“Hey, so I’m not Kita.” He continued speaking, looking at the blank expression he was met with. “We’re not going to wallow around in our sadness and rot away so…” Tadashi’s subconscious curb stomped his own consciousness. That statement was not true at _all._ “So, uh, get yourself cleaned up. There’s a shower and bath down the hall to your right. I’ll bring a pair of clothes you can borrow. And, uh, then we’re going to have a _real_ meal because in this house we don’t survive off of water and weed.” 

A wild-animal sort of lived behind Kageyama’s eyes. Maybe he  _ was  _ taking care of a stray dog here. It took him a minute to move, looking down at the step from the front hallway into the rest of the house. Tadashi motioned down the hall to his bathroom, waiting for him to continue. As soon as he left, his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

**kita:** good luck trying to house him

**kita:** he refused any sort of food or care i suggested

**kita:** bastard doesn’t know what’s good for him

He seemed willing to go take a shower, at least. Tadashi never had any pets growing up, so the stray dog act was going to run out of ideas fast. He hadn’t even cooked  _ himself  _ a real meal in a while. Once again, one of his most-used contacts was a take-out restaurant. Did he even have groceries?  _ Oh man, who was the stray dog now?  _ With a sigh, he headed to his kitchen. 

It wasn’t as though he hated cooking. With his usual work schedule, it was just hard to find the time. Now that he was suspended he definitely had time, but chose not to. He cooked at Yachi’s house with her the other night, the two making gyudon. That was easy, right? It didn’t take long and it didn’t call for too much either. Gyudon two nights in a row didn’t sound bad either. After putting on a pot of rice, he remembered the clothing. 

Going down the hallway to his bedroom, he could hear the shower running. That was good, right? It meant Kageyama had listened to him, right? Kageyama was tall and lanky, sort of like himself. They had to be at least a similar size. After settling on a plain t-shirt, track pants, and a pair of his  _ own  _ boxers. He folded them nicely and walked back to the bathroom. Now he just felt sort of like a new parent. A new parent to an adult.  _ Oh god. Kageyama wasn’t a kid, was he? There was no way.  _

“Kageyama?” He knocked on the door. “I’m coming in. Just to leave clothes.” 

The bathroom was filled with steam, the shower on full blast. Thankfully, he had a solid black shower-curtain so nothing was visible. Kageyama’s clothes were in a pile on the floor, ugly cargo shorts and a dark shirt. Tadashi really hated people assuming he was some fashion-god for being gay, but even  _ he  _ knew that cargo shorts were awful. After setting down his folded clothes on the sink counter and picking up the (awful) clothing, he was ready to leave at full speed. Then he heard it. 

It started with a few sniffles from inside the shower, developing into a gut-wrenching wail. From inside the shower, Kageyama choked on his sobs, completely ignoring Tadashi on the outside. Maybe he didn’t know he was there, maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, the crying bled with despair and pain echoed across the tiled walls. 

The volcano had finally exploded, and Tadashi had decided to stay in the splash zone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one:  
> me: C L A S P I N G H A N D S  
> also okay this is SUPER random but ive been playing vball since 2015 and when i get bored during quarantine i go outside and spike against the wall over and over again when i need to sort out plot details or just think but then i started watching this bird fly and i literally forgot what i was doing and watching this bird fly around for like seven minutes and now i want to write something about flying just cuz i got MESMERIZED by this bird oml  
> rant over, tysm for reading and the kudos and comments. ur a sweetie for getting this far. by the end of this i literally forgot how to do my writing style. if you managed to get through THAT you deserve monetary rewards
> 
> make sure to wash your hands, stay home, and stay healthy. Be safe, homies. I'll cya next time^^


	5. ghost of banquo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay sorry tw: more talk about suicide but nothing in great detail because this isn't 13rw
> 
> also i have a winning streak of ch 5 being the worst one it was literally the same deal with side a wtf im so sorry idk what it is with chapter 5

Kageyama eats as though he hadn’t in years. It took three tries, but once he actually does give in and touch his food, they’d become inseparable. 

_“Just eat.”_ _  
_ _“I can’t.”_ _  
_ _“You_ can. _I’m not going to be held responsible when you die of starvation. I made you food, so eat it._ ”   
It’s very bizarre to him, taking this dominant role. His whole life, he’s felt like the one someone has had to care for. Now here he was, sternly telling this grown man to eat like he’s some picky child going on a hunger strike. They eat in a peaceful quiet, the only sounds being the ticking of the clock and the movement of plates. 

At least his guilt has shut up for once. 

Neither of them acknowledge what happened in the bathroom. Kageyama hardly even looks as though he’d been crying like his family got killed in front of him. He just looks like shit, albeit a little better after the shower. Out of nowhere, he sets down the bowl loudly and startles Tadashi. 

“Yamaguchi, thank you for your hospitality, but I don’t think I should be here.” Kageyama looks uncomfortable saying so, eyes shifting anywhere but his host’s face. “You could get involved in something you don’t want.”   
“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” He can’t help but note the way his shoulders tensed up after hearing that _Oh shit, that was really rude wasn’t it?_ “You can’t just run away to Kita again. Just talk to me about what happened”   
He’s more than uncomfortable. For a minute, he just spouts nonsense trying to form words. “I- okay, um,” his eyes finally meet Tadashi’s, “drug possession. And… distribution. I think.” 

“You think?” He raises an eyebrow. 

Kageyama runs both hands through his hair, leaving his palms against his forehead to rest against. “I split after the third arrest. Left a fake note in my apartment and ran to Kita’s.”   
“And you refused care?”   
“Didn’t deserve it.” 

A part of his self-pity irks Tadashi. “Then you wouldn’t need to fake your death, I guess.” 

He frowns. “You were a lot nicer at Kita’s house.”   
“I can’t help if I’m still being overly nice.”   
Things go back to being quiet before Kageyama starts to look… green. _Oh, Christ. Not this._ Tadashi reacts before he does, stumbling up from the table to grab a trash bin. He’s right on time, handing it to him as he gets violently sick inside. He should have seen that one coming. Kageyama eats more than he had in at _least_ a week. Of course, he’s going to get sick. 

It stopped coming up for a few seconds, Kageyama’s shoulders shaking as he heaved for air. “S-sorry.”   
“It’s okay.”   
Vomit surges back the trash bin, cutting off whatever he was going to respond with. Maybe this was going to be more difficult than he thought. 

It was good that his couch was a pull-out futon. It was rare that he actually used it as such, however. Daichi didn’t like staying overnight at people’s houses and Hitoka was used to sharing a bed with him. For the time being, however, it was useful to house a sick and dying Kageyama. 

_ Okay.  _

He wasn’t dying, but it partially had felt like it. He currently lay on his side, facing away from Tadashi placing a glass of water on his side-table. 

“Night,” He says turning off the lights and moving into his bedroom. It’s hardly even after nine, but there’s little reason to stay up anymore. The shadow of the radio feels enormous against his wall, fighting against the light to take over his mental state. 

_ What happened to us? We had a thing.  _

_ It wasn’t a thing. You made me feel like shit.  _

_ But I was  _ always  _ there.  _

_ I did the right thing. I’m  _ trying  _ to do the right thing.  _

_ Since when was stowing away criminals doing the right thing?  _

With a distressed moan, he flopped down onto his bed. It was so exhausting debating with himself like this. He thought it was the right thing to do, but Kageyama had a point. He’d gotten himself involved into something dangerous, and if the cops pulled up they would  _ both  _ be screwed. There was no way he could ask Daichi for advice. He wouldn’t call the police, but the amount of disappointment he’d have would be immense. That just left one other person. 

He picked up the phone, calling the first number he knew he could trust. 

“ _Hello?_ ”   
“Hitoka, hey,” he breathes out in relief at her picking up. “I have a problem.”   
“ _A problem? What happened? Are you alright?_ ”   
Tadashi stared up at the ceiling, a little grossed out by the physical effects smoking has had on his house. “Do you think you could meet me at the park tomorrow? I have, uh…”   
_How was he even supposed to explain this?_

“...I have, uh, someone in a bit of a pickle. Not sure if I can do it alone.” 

“ _Of course._ _I’ll see you tomorrow then?_ ”  
“Yup. Love ya’.”   
“ _Love you too_. _Bye!_ ”   
The line clicks off, leaving him alone in the quiet room. He’s a little spooked, to be honest. Even with the light on, he’s a bit scared to just sit in there… alone. Next to the radio sits an even worse token of his summer. The ziploc bag holding the flash-drive sat there, as menacing as well, nothing. Tadashi isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t touched. Why he hasn’t even taken it out of the bag. 

_ You’re sca-red. _

“No shit,” he sighs out loud to himself, turning onto his side. Out of instinct, he grabs a pillow and wraps his arms around it. 

Tadashi goes to bed with the lights on that night. 

“That’s got to be horrible for your power bill,” a voice chuckles, arousing his half-asleep mind to consciousness. Tsukishima fiddles with the lightswitch, twirling his finger around gently but never fully pushing it down.   
Tadashi sits up from his bed, rubbing his eyes too hard. In the darkness behind his eyelids, he sees stars. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Just visiting.” 

He watches as Tsukishima slowly walks around his room, closely examining every picture, every knick-knack, every evidence of his existence. “You’re not real, are you?” It’s his half-awake conclusion, the only sort of thing that could properly contextualise the situation. 

The man shrugs. “Guess not.”   
“So that’s just it then?”   
Tsukishima sighs, eyes shifting towards him. “What’d’ya want, a sign? Some message from god? The world spins round and round, Yamaguchi. It’s not as hard as you think to turn in the opposite direction.”   


His eyes blink awake, sitting up for real this time. The lights are on, but his alarm reads three in the morning. Stumbling up from his bed, Tadashi turns the lights off and lumbers back to sleep in a zombie-like state.   
He never really was the type to ponder over weird dreams

The next morning, he finds Kageyama still asleep. It’s a bit relieving, really. Tadashi has time to shower himself and get ready for the day without worrying over him having run away, or something. By the time he comes back to the living room, however, he finds him awake and in a minor state of panic. Must’ve forgotten the previous evening, not used to the change in his surroundings. The panic dissipated a bit upon seeing Tadashi. 

“C’mon. We’re going out.” He says, motioning to the door with his head. 

“What,” Kageyama looks at him like he’s crazy, “now?” 

“You have somewhere else to be? C’mon.” 

It puts a frown on his face, but at least he listens and pulls himself up from the couch. The two put on their shoes and he texts Hitoka. The sun pours light and heat out onto the world, immediately noticeable as they step out of the door. Fall was coming, but summer was still very much in the present. 

“It’s not safe for me to be going out,” he grumbles as the two head walk down the sidewalk to the nearest station. 

Despite the jarring dream he had, Tadashi is actually in a fairly good mood. He hums to himself, a skip in his step. “It’s also not healthy to be cooped up for weeks on end.” 

Today is better than yesterday. That’s what he accepts as true, at least. He finds himself actually talking today, attempting to get Kageyama to eventually open up. The topic of music works, at least. Well, sort of. 

“Streaming of platforms are probably gonna somehow take over radios, I bet,” he says, paying for his train ticket the second day in a row. “No idea how that would work, but it wouldn’t surprise me at least.”   
“Do you listen to the radio, then?” 

It’s surprising to hear him actually try and contribute. Tadashi smiles. “Yeah, I like to listen when I’m working late nights.” 

Kageyama pauses, staring at him from the corner of his eye. “What station?”   
The next train stops, the two of them getting on. Tadashi grabs onto the railing and notes how Kageyama’s eyes flicker around, keeping his head down and trying to appear small. He’s anxious amongst the crowd. The smile disappears. “Oh, I dunno. 113.1 mostly.”   
Once again, he gets that look that makes Tadashi feel like he’s talking to Kuroo again. “Ah.” Kageyama knows something he doesn’t. 

_ Might as well join the club.  _

There’s only two stops before they need to get off. With each opening of the train doors, Kageyama tries to hide himself behind Tadashi’s shoulder. If he didn’t know it was him trying to avoid any form of recognition (not like he was posted on wanted posters or anything) as to not get arrested, he would’ve thought the awkward ducking of his head was cute. Any conversation they had previously dissipates into the environment of the train. Hardly anyone talks, and to Kageyama’s luck, most avoid any sort of eye contact with each other. The train had always been a sort of comfort to him. A place that inspired him in between trips. Various painting ideas, smoke tricks, and even playlists would pop up in his head. Tadashi liked to imagine the afterlife as one long train ride. 

Not that he thought much about death anymore. 

At their stop, he pulled on Kageyama’s arm to tell him to get off. He likes this part of the city. It’s a few blocks down from markets and really, he’s always loved the park. The two pass by a small bakery and he buys breakfast. As he exits with three loaves of melon bread, he tosses one to Kageyama. 

“Try not to spew your guts this time,” Tadashi says with a smile, biting into his own. The taste of warm bread is heaven to his mouth. 

“Har har,” he catches it, glancing at the last one. “Who’s the third for?”   
“You’ll find out.”   
Kageyama obviously doesn’t like the sound of that, but keeps quiet, taking a bite of his. They continue to the park, still fairly empty due to the earlier hour. A few people jog on the paths, a couple has some sort of brunch picnic. It’s fun to people watch. He imagines what the couple is talking about. 

“ _Oh, isn’t life beautiful?”_ _  
_ _“My dear, it is_ you _that is beautiful.”_ _  
_ _“Isn’t it so swell that we’re straight?”_ _  
_ _“Legal marriage is the most beautiful of all.”_

Alright. Maybe it isn’t so fun. Tadashi tries to ignore the bad mood he just put himself into and instead looks around for Hitoka. Her train should’ve arrived a few minutes ago, if he timed this all right. At least he  _ liked  _ to think he was good at math. 

“Tadashi!”   
He turns over his shoulder, now focusing on the hug he was pulled into. Kageyama looks startled, as if he isn’t sure whether to run or hide. It’s almost comical at this point. Unless there were direct statements about him on the news, he was fine. 

“Dunno if you’ve eaten yet, but gotcha something,” he hands the bread to Hitoka, pleased with the shine in her eyes. 

“Ohhh, this is why you’re my favourite.” She gladly takes it with a smile, then turns to Kageyama. His awkward demeanour softens his grumpy appearance, a true stroke of luck for her weak heart. “Hello.” Her voice is still shy. 

“This is Kageyama,” Tadashi nods towards him. “And, uh, I thought maybe you could help us.” 

The poor guy is probably vibrating with nerves. “Uh, hi… uh, hello. Nif, nuff, uh, nice to meet you.” It’s a struggle for him to get out. 

She’s confused, but shakes his stuck out hand. “Nice to meet you too, Kageyama. I’m Yachi.” 

He thought maybe their awkwardness would only be added with each other, but somehow it’s multiplied. God, he  _ really  _ hoped this hadn’t been a mistake. 

“So, you’re one of the people in the big bust?” She asks as they slowly walk the path. “Like, those are your friends?”   
Tadashi stands on the end, listening as she talks to him. Admittedly, she’s better at this than he is. 

“Yeah. My best friend was, uh, is the first one. I think he ratted, or something.” He turns his head away, but it’s still easy to hear. “Of course, he’d be the one to snitch.”   
“Two of my co-workers are involved,” she muses. “I know it’s hard to deal with this. It’s hard even as an outsider.”   
For a while he nods along, but the realisation hits him like a strike of lightning. 

_OH, of COURSE Kageyama’s in the fuckin’ club!_ _  
_ _HE’S_ JUST _LIKE KUROO!_ _  
_ With suspicious glances, he watches them more intently. 

_ Own up to it, own up to it, own up to it. Admit it. Admit you weren’t telling me everything.  _

Kageyama kicks a rock. “I’m just scared. I don’t know what to do.” 

Their conversation goes into rapid fire.

“Is hiding your only choice?” 

“Sorta.”

“Why?”   
“I need to fake my death.” 

“Why would you fake your death?”  
“I’m faking my death because I was too scared to kill myself.” It takes him a minute to realize both Tadashi and Hitoka stopped walking, gawking at him in surprise. “What?”   
Hitoka starts crying, grabbing his hand and telling him to never think about suicide being an option. He turns red, telling her he was too scared. This is no matter to her, however, and she further stresses that even having to consider it is awful. Tadashi just feels… empty. That wasn’t what he said at Kita’s house. All he said was that he was too scared to die. 

_ “I’d probably kill myself if I was in prison.” _

The crying in the shower. 

Tadashi needed to genuinely do something to help. This wasn’t healthy. It felt like looking at a mirror, but the reflection was himself right before university.

“Yachi, please don’t cry.” Kageyama’s expression gets more exasperated as Tadashi grabs his free hand, looking up at him with determination. “Oh, Christ. Not you too.”   
“We’re going to help you, okay?” Instead of tears, he allows a grin. “I promise.” 

“Don’t be embarrassing.”   
Embarrassing was better than letting anyone else walk away. That was all he knew. 

Kageyama was softer around Hitoka. Careful, but still nice. From afar, he could see the stray dog tip-toeing around a small kitten. 

_ That’s rude. Stop comparing him to a stray dog.  _

_ It’s not  _ my  _ fault- okay maybe it is.  _

They were having a conversation about healthy coping habits inside his living room. Couped up in his bedroom, he couldn’t really hear it, but he didn’t need to. In the past, Tadashi had received the same lecture.  _ Hardly even the past _ . Daichi was still on the topic. It was no matter to him now, however, as he held the flash drive up in front of the light. In sharpie was written “T.K.” in blocky, English letters. Laying on his back felt good. Staring up at his own personal Banquo did quite the opposite. 

“Why haven’t you plugged it in yet?” Tsukishima asked, sitting atop his desk. “I made it for you, y’know.”   
“I know,” he sighed, sitting up. “I just don’t know if I’m ready.”   
Tsukishima wrinkles his nose. “Ready? It’s not like I professed my love or something. We only went on one-”   
“-and a half dates.” Tadashi finishes his sentence for him. “I’m sorry it was that few.”   
“Don’t apologize. If I hadn’t bit it, we could have gone on more.” 

“You think so?” 

“Well-”    
A knock comes to the door and Tadashi feels like he’s falling off a cliff. 

“Yamaguchi?” Kageyama cracks the door open, peering in. “Oh, were you asleep?” 

Part of his heart is still beating a little too quick, the aftermath of dozing off. Tadashi glances at his empty desk, inwardly cursing himself for the second bizarre dream. Inside of his sweating fist, he still clenches the flash drive. 

“Um, sorta. Just fell asleep on accident, I think,” he runs a hand through his hair. _God,_ he _really_ needed a haircut. “Did you need something?”   
“No, uh, I was just going to say that Yachi left a minute ago. Told me to tell you she’d be back in the morning if she could.” 

“Oh. Okay.”   
He hangs in the doorway, awkwardly keeping his hand on the doorknob and trying not to look inside of his room too much. Every few seconds, he looks at him, opens his mouth, darts his glance away, and closes his mouth. 

_ Own it. Tell me now. I know you know. Fucking tell me already.  _

“Yamaguchi, um, I, uh-”   
“You know Tsukishima.” His own voice is a little flat. “Yeah?”   
His eyes go a little wide before everything scrunches down into a soft frown. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before.”   
“It’s whatever,” he places the flash drive on the window sill. Kageyama watches. “It’s not like he was my boyfriend or something.”   
“Did you want him to be?” 

The question is a little jarring. What did he get out of this? “Uh, I mean, like, I guess so.”   
He hates admitting this out loud. _No,_ he isn’t ashamed. It just feels so… high school. Who likes who. Who’s dating who. It’s just so _pathetic_ sounding. Tadashi was going to be twenty-six this year. Shimida was right. He had to stop acting like a child. 

Kageyama inches into the room slowly, like he’s waiting for some sort of signal to stop. “Sorry.”   
“What for?”   
“I think I killed him.” 

His voice is soft, eyes focused on the shaggy carpet. Tadashi raises an eyebrow, leaning forward from where he sat. Kageyama really  _ was  _ a mirror, huh? 

“Kageyama, he’s not dead. You know that, right?” His own throat feels tight, holding back… something. 

“No,” Kageyama’s eyes finally flicker up, “I know. Before the other arrests I saw him once, in the hospital. He just… looked dead. And it’s my fault.”   
One word from everything he said registers in his head. He keeps rambling on for a while, but Tadashi’s already stopped listening. “Wait, okay,” interrupting Kageyama surprises the man, “you know what hospital he’s at? Where is he?”   
“Oh.” He wrings his hands. “Yeah, I suppose you’d want to know that.”   
In the back of his mind, it pisses him off that this information didn’t get released at the start of the conversation. He’s glad to know, at least. Kageyama sits next to him, showing directions on his cell phone. Tadashi saves the address and looks up visiting hours. Butterflies of nerves appear as he looks forward to the next day. 

For the first time in weeks, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can bury his guilt. 

In his imagination, Tadashi sees the hospital as a monolith. Some great glass tower shooting into the sky for infinity, lightning striking around a top you can’t see. His feet tap on the floor of the train. A mix he modified for Spotify plays through his earbuds, a mix he wasn’t scared of anymore. 

  
  


_“Hey, he said you’re heading out?” Hitoka knocks on the door of his room after coming in._ _  
_ _Tadashi sat on the floor with his laptop, flash drive plugged in. He was busy reading the titles of songs, adding them with haste. “Yeah, just for a bit. Do you think you could stay here and like… make sure nothing bad happens?”_ _  
_ _“I have an idea to keep him in check, anyway.”_ _  
_ _He glances up at her, smiling with a plastic bag. There’s something inside, but he can’t identify it. With the raise of an eyebrow, he gives a concerned smile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”_ _  
_ _“Just a little something we planned yesterday when you were busy sulking.”_

It was amusing, really. Tsukishima could predict his own future.  _ House of the Rising Sun _ ’ _ s  _ forte of a distinct opening began as he exited the train station. He gave a huff of a laugh, enjoying how everything felt like a movie in this one moment. His confident walk, the flowers in his hand, he imagined what people would think about him if they stopped to stare. 

_ “Wow! Look at him go in his jeans he ripped with a cheese grater!” _

_“Look at that sexy man go! He has places to be!”_ _  
_ _“Whoever’s getting those flowers is a lucky lady!”_

_ And then he’d spin around, take them by the hand, and say, “No! No you foolish sir! These are for a man!” And the whole street would just  _ cheer  _ for the statement in support.  _

He hums along, not caring about the annoyance it might be. Not caring about the embarrassment. He was on his way, the cheapest carnations money could buy in his hand, ready to make an apology! He was here and wearing his nicest graphic shirt! Here he was! He was…

There. Tadashi arrived at the hospital, and the good mood danced ahead, out of his consciousness. 

The hospital wasn’t a monolith. It wasn’t even glass. It was a big brick building, people going in and out of the front doors. On one end, a family was welcoming out an elderly person in a wheelchair, teary smiles and exclamations of love. On the other end were hugs that might be goodbye. Teary smiles that weren’t happy. Teary smiles that promised someone they’d be okay. Tadashi pulled his earbuds out and solemnly walked into the main entrance. This was no longer a stable environment. 

Once again, it was time to hike up the volcano. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay hhhhh im so sorry i know it's been like a week. i thought i was going to wait until next week to finish this GARBAGE chapter but i can't sleep so it's garbage day  
> im like actually so sorry for it being this bad. my only excuse is that this is the biggest week of the school year for me and my exams are making me so stressed that im sick sdjfslkdfal but after this week im done and im free and i can write  
> okay rant over. i want to finish this because i finally finalized my plans for the ending and im SO HAPPY WITH it and i PROMISE YOU it isn't some sad angsty ending. i am a firm believer that real life can have happy endings and that's what i want for them too
> 
> okay okay okayy i also just wanted to say tysm for all of the lovely comments on the last chapter. you guys warmed my little grinch heart and it made me so happy that even tho this week has taken years off of my life from harrowing stress, i had that to see when checking my emails. like ive been off and on writing for YEARS on various sites and accounts and ive never smiled as much as i did reading those. so yes. thank you. it affected me a lot and touched my heart. tysm. 
> 
> make sure you're washing your hands, staying home, and staying healthy. be safe, babes. thanks for reading, i'll cya next time^^


	6. grape soda

The first thing Tadashi took notice of was the flooring. Feeling too awkward to look anywhere else, his vision burned into the checkered linoleum floors as he made his way to the front desks. Nerves built up in his stomach, like a ladder to reach back up to his mouth, as he passed by the seats on either side of his path. The flowers in his hand felt like they wilted with the last of his good mood as he remembered why he was here. What his plan was. 

_Do I even_ have _a plan?_ _  
_ _Do any of us?_ _  
_ “Hi, excuse me,” he says when there appears to be an opening. The woman at the desk smiles at him. “Is there a patient information desk?” 

“I can call, save you a trip.” She picks up the phone, starting to dial. “Do you have the name?”   
He clears his throat. “Um, Tsukishima Kei?” Without meaning to, his right foot starts tapping on his own. His free hand starts to feel awkward; coming out of his pocket, putting it back in, eventually restlessly beating a rhythm against his thigh.   
The woman speaks on the phone, pulling over a pad of paper and a pen. As she starts to write something down, Tadashi can see a man get up from the chair nearest to him. The tapping gets worse. At this point, he might as well put on a whole show, tap-dancing with a sparkly suit and all. 

“Mr. Tsukishima is located in…” she slides the paper across to him, “ _this_ room.”   
“Thank you.” He takes it, glancing down at the paper rather than the man beginning to approach him. Panic settles over as he turns to his left, trying to walk away as fast as possible. A hand catches his shoulder. 

“Hey.” Tadashi swallows, shoulders jumping to high heaven. He spins around slowly, looking with frightened wide eyes at the man. “The wing you’re looking for is in the other direction.”   
Then he came to the realisation that the man looked strikingly similar to Tsukishima at the club without his glasses. 

“Oh. Um, thank you.”  _ Maybe I’m imagining it. Anyone can look like anyone these days. I’m just projecting.  _

His eyes flicker down to the flowers, then back up to him. “You said you were going to see Kei?” 

_ I’m not just projecting.  _

“I- uh, yeah.”   
They have a little stare-down, the man squinting at him like he was some puzzle. Tadashi becomes overly aware of his face, wondering which part of him he could possibly be judging. Was it his nose? The way it was bent at the tip from being broken back grade school? Was it the freckles? His hair that he so desperately needed to get cut? 

“You’re not a reporter, are you?”  
“No.”   
“Are you a boyfriend then?”   
His hand rests on his hip, facial expression changing to seriously resemble a detective on the job. It spooks him, the way he feels like a piece of evidence. Then it hits him. 

_ Is Tsukishima out?  _

He has to break away from the gaze. If it went on for much longer, it would sear off his eyebrows. “No. We had a thing but it… wasn’t ever anything official, I guess.”   
As soon as he says it, the man’s eyebrows shoot up. He snaps, and shakes his head once, like someone who just won a bet. “I knew it! God, I knew he was gay.”   
_Oh no._

_ Tsukishima was  _ not  _ out.  _

He rambles on about how he “knew it”, or whatever, and Tadashi can only feel the blood drain from his face. Whoever this man was, he just ruined a coming out moment for someone else. He ruined it. He  _ ruined  _ it. 

_ He was going to ruin it.  _

_ Tadashi’s hands shook underneath the dinner table, there was no way he could do this. If he tried standing, his legs would give out.  _

_ He was about to ruin everything.  _

_“Hey,” one of his sisters frowned, tilting her head to look at him, “are you sick?”_ _  
_ _Yes, he was sick. He was_ going _to be sick._ _  
_ _They were going to call him sick._

_ He shot up from the table, bumping it in the process and gaining the attention of everyone. His mother and father glanced at each other with confused expressions before turning back to him.  _

_ “Tadashi, what’s going on?”  _

_ “I- I, uh, I want to tell you something.” His voice broke. Fiddling with his shaking fingers did little to help, if anything, making it more noticeable. “A-and I want you to listen, and, um, I don’t want you to be upset, but, uh-”  _

_His mother frowned. “Tadashi, is this about you being gay?”_ _  
_ _At that very moment, time stood still._

_ “What?” Was all he could manage to get out, not understanding how she knew. How  _ no one  _ looked surprised.  _

_She glanced at the rest of the family, everyone giving a sort of half-nod. “Your Uncle Shimida told us. We would never be upset, sweetheart. It’s alright…”_ _  
_ _Her voice trailed off in his head. Tadashi had begun to feel dizzy, and not out of relief._

_ It was ruined. He would never truly be the one to tell them.  _

_ His moment was ruined.  _

“...and then I _told_ him. I told him it was alright if he was-”   
“I didn’t mean that.”   
The man gave him a look as he was interrupted. “Didn’t mean what?”   
“I didn’t mean what I said. We didn’t have a thing.” He feels like he could cry. It wasn’t even happening to him, but it hurt just as much. “He’s not gay. I didn’t say that.”   
Confusion turns into concern. “Hey, dude, it’s alright. I’m not homophobic or anything. I’m his brother, I wouldn’t judge him for that.”   
_You don’t understand._

_ You don’t  _ get  _ it.  _

“You did come to see him, though, right?” Tsukishima’s brother looks nearly apologetic now, motioning to the flowers. 

He’s defeated. “Yes. Yes, I came to see him. Can you… can you just direct me to his room, or whatever?” 

“Well, actually, um.” The man awkwardly glances back at where he sat before. There’s a couple of others, expectantly looking at him. “He’s got an evaluation today. Can’t visit right now.” 

“Oh.”   
There’s an awkward pause. The flowers feel like a dead weight in his hands. Both of them seem to notice it.   
“I can, uh, take those. We’ll save them.” Tsukishima’s brother ( _Jesus, he should’ve at least asked for his name)_ held out his hand towards the carnations. 

The trade off made things worse. Their hands bumped and the man almost dropped the flowers, the two both trying to catch it at the same time. With the yellow carnations now out of his hands, he somehow feels  _ more  _ awkward. Part of him wants to leave, part of him just wants to say goodbye and leave  _ so  _ quickly, but the part that controls his body stays obstinate. 

“I’m Akiteru, by the way.” He sticks his free hand out towards him. 

Tadashi takes it, almost surprised by how firm his shake is. If he  _ was  _ some businessman on Wall Street, he’d have to have that kind of handshake. The kind to wow people, make them think he’s the real deal. 

“I’m Yamaguchi.” His smile is a little weak, due to the stress of just having outed somebody and now the underwhelming fret over his own handshaking abilities. “Nice to meet you, I suppose.”   
Akiteru looks down at the flowers, then back at the group of people. _Family, I guess_. “Hey, can I, um, can I talk to you outside? I just have a couple questions, if that’s okay.”   
_Oh my god, I’m about to get the gay interrogation, aren’t I?_ _  
_ With a dry swallow, he nods his head. “Yeah, uh okay.”   
He smiles, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the people. “Cool. Okay, I’m gonna drop off the flowers real quick. Don’t run away, alright?”   
It’s a joke, but he considered it anyway. 

The brick wall feels cool against his back, even through his shirt. The two watch the people pass by for a moment before Akiteru speaks up. 

“Did you know he was using again?”   
Tadashi turns his head to look at him staring ahead. He’s different from Tsukishima, more mature looking, but friendlier. _Again?_ “I, uh…”   
He finally turns to connect their gaze. “Please be honest with me, Yamaguchi.”   
What he thought he had squandered rises from the pavement, swirling up in dark circles around his legs before the guilt completely takes over. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t lie. “I, uh, yeah. I knew.” 

Akiteru pushes off the wall with a sigh. “You don’t anymore, okay?”

He blinks, not even sure if he heard right. “What?” 

“I’m trying to make it look like a suicide attempt.” His voice lowers, eyes shifting to his feet. “Serotonin syndrome. I’m pushing that it was from my... antidepressants.”   
Honestly, he’s a bit horrified. “Why would you do that? You’re trying to make him look suicidal? Why the hell would you-”   
“I don’t want him to go to prison! Okay?” He throws his hands up, looking exasperated. “I’m scared. I’m scared of what’ll happen if I don’t at least try.” 

“What about the shrooms then? You’re just passing that off as antidepressants too?” The annoyed tone shouldn’t come out. He just can’t help it. He’s in disbelief at this “plan”. 

The look on Akiteru’s face as soon as he finishes his sentence worries him. He squints at Tadashi. “I said serotonin syndrome. You don’t get that from shrooms.” 

Now  _ he’s  _ the one squinting. “What?” 

“Yamaguchi, he overdosed on molly.” 

_ No.  _

_ Wait.  _

_ What?  _

_He what?_ _  
_ “Wait- but, what? But the, the shrooms!” The guilt loosens its grip. “But what about the shrooms! I don’t understand.” 

He runs a hand through his hair. “I… I disposed of the shrooms. And the bottle. I’m just trying to…” his voice trails off as he focuses more on Tadashi’s expression. “You didn’t know about the molly, did you?”   
Tadashi shakes his head slowly. He was wrong. This whole time he was responsible and… now he wasn’t. 

_ So why couldn’t the guilt let go completely?  _

There was no pep in his step as he walked up to his front door, instead stuck in a bubble. He felt like he was in a trance, overtaken by confusion and doubt. 

_ It wasn’t my fault.  _

_ It wasn’t my fault.  _

_ It wasn’t my fault.  _

No main lights were on in the front area of his house. For a brief moment, he thought he was home alone. It was a relief, really. No more guests in his-

_ Wait.  _

A panic of sorts settled over him as he slung off his shoes, utterly missing the rack next to his door and coming into his living room. It was tousled, but empty. The kitchen was the same: lights off and empty. Everything was dark and empty. 

_ Kageyama was gone.  _

It should have been a good thing. A criminal was out of his house. It did not feel like a good thing. It did not feel like a good thing at  _ all _ ! Kageyama could be dead by now! He could be arrested! He could be…

Inside the bathroom. 

Tadashi’s run came to a halt near the end of the hallway. Underneath the closed door, he could see the lights on. The lights on and two audible voices. 

“ _It looks good! It really does! I told you toner would help._ ”   
“ _Yachi, I can hardly look at myself._ ”   
Kageyama was here! Kageyama was still here! Tadashi opened the door at lightning speed. 

Kageyama was  _ blond.  _

Hitoka smiled upon seeing him, boxes of bleach and developer and toner laying around the sink counter, making her then-cryptic plans this morning so obvious now. “I thought Kageyama might feel safer if he, er, looked less like himself.” 

“Holy shit,” was all Tadashi could manage. 

Obviously embarrassed, Kageyama turned away from him. “I look stupid.”   
“No, no,” he took a few steps in, looking at the three of them in the mirror. The now blond’s face was incredibly red, making the hair look even lighter. It wasn’t a piss-yellow, not even close. It was lighter than Tsukishima’s even, more of a platinum colour. “Hitoka, you did a _really_ good job. It looks sick, to be honest.” 

He glanced back in the mirror. “You think?” 

“Yeah, dude.” 

It isn’t hard to miss the brief flattery that rests on his face. Kageyama runs a hand through, letting the light hair fall gracefully back down on his forehead. “I guess it  _ is  _ kinda cool.” 

“It’s  _ hella  _ cool.” 

The three of them laugh, and for a minute Tadashi forgets about Tsukishima. 

About an hour, the group had relocated to the living room. All three sat on the floor, playing cards. 

“Ah, Yachi, do you have any fours?” Kageyama says, looking up from his cards towards her. 

She sighs in a defeated manner and hands him two of her own. “How are you so good at this? It’s so unfair.”   
“This is the first time I’ve been good at any card game in a long time.”   
It’s still hard getting used to the blond. No matter how much he tries not to, Tadashi finds himself staring. Hitoka snaps him back to reality. 

“Ah, Tadashi,” she takes a sip of her drink before continuing, “so Kageyama here is very conservative for power. Every time we left a room, he would turn off every light and unplug anything not being used.” 

He rolls his eyes, but smiles softly at his cards. “It’s just better for your electricity bill. Ah, Yamaguchi. Do you have any fours?”   
“Go fish.” He listens to the other two banter back and forth. Hitoka tells him his reign is over as the “Go-Fish King” and she’ll totally win. He says back that that’s impossible, but she can join his court if she wants to. It’s cute really, the way Kageyama is soft with her. Them getting along so easily wasn’t what he expected, but it’s good nonetheless. 

“How did the hospital trip go, then?” Kageyama eventually asks, not even looking at him. 

“Hospital?” Hitoka cocks her head “Why’d you go to the hospital? Are you alright?”    
_ Ah. I forgot she’d find out.  _

_ Again. _

He exhales slowly before answering. “I was, um, going to see Tsukishima.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “Is he doing any better?”    
_ Oh.  _

_Oh?_ _  
_ _That was- well, that was… not? What I expected?_ _  
_ It takes him a few seconds to un-confuse himself. “I dunno. Visits were closed today. Some sort of evaluation.” 

“Probably means they’re determining whether he’ll be tried or not,” Kageyama mumbles more to himself rather than the others. He glances up at them staring at him. “I mean, like, that’s just my guess.” 

“I feel so bad about what happened, I saw him that night and I just didn’t notice,” Hitoka frowns, stacking four of her cards into a book on the floor in front of her. “I wish I could have helped.”   
Then Kageyama scrunched up his face, pursing and unpursing his lips a few times before looking up at them. “I, um… can I say something?”   
Right on cue, Tadashi’s phone began to ring. It was from a newly received contact, one he’d collected that very afternoon. Holding up a finger, he stood and walked out of the living room and into the kitchen. 

“Hello?”   
“ _Yamaguchi, hey._ ” Akiteru’s voice came from the other line. “ _I just wanted to say that, uh, if you still wanted to come visit, Thursday would be the best time.”_

“Oh, alright.” Tadashi glances into the living room at the other two talking. “I’ll try to make it. Thanks for calling.”   
“ _Thanks for… wanting to come.”_

Their short-lived phone call comes to an end and he makes his way back to the card circle. “What were you saying, Kageyama?”   
“Oh. Um. Nothing important.” 

He’s lying, but it’s okay.    


A cloud of smoke escapes his lips as Tadashi watches the sun rise. It’s early, a little too early. He fell asleep listening to the mix, nowhere near consciously hearing all seven hours. It was like his body hated him. He hadn’t slept properly in so long, waking up in the early hours of the morning no matter how many or how few hours he slept. 

The first time he correctly ghosted was from a carrot. It was back in high school, a dumb thing he did with friends. He wasn’t  _ always  _ a stoner. Everyone smoked a few times in high school. Everyone smoked at parties in university. Tadashi didn’t even start purchasing for himself until he was twenty-one. 

The plastic of his chair felt cool against his legs. Better than the heavy haze of his smoke, at least. He was nervous. Nervous to go to group, nervous to go back to the hospital, it was all a mess in the bottom of his stomach. 

Nervous was annoying. Leaning back in his chair to blow a thick stream of smoke towards the rosy sky was better. It always would be. 

_ Weight had never been a struggle with him. Tadashi had always been tall and lean, definitely muscular in recent years. As a starting player, he’d learnt to work out more and had been in the best shape he’d been in his whole life. He could walk in front of a mirror and feel good about himself. Sending nude photos to boys he’d met on campus only to receive utter praise and flattery made him feel good about himself. For the first time in his life, he could think with certainty that he was attractive.  _

_ Then everything fucking smashed into pieces along with his spine.  _

_ Tadashi couldn’t look at himself after the surgery. He couldn’t do anything. He’d become so out of shape. He was useless to the team. Two months after recovering, the team had moved on from him. Tadashi quit the only thing that made him happy. The forms officiating his termination of courses and scholarship had been turned in two days ago. In two hours, his flight would be landing back in Japan.  _

_ His back hurt  _ so  _ much.  _

_ Convincing the doctor to put him on a higher dosage of opioids, was the best decision he’d ever made. Maybe taking debate in high school hadn’t been a bad idea after all. Picking up refills for his prescription was the only thing that brought satisfaction. Food stopped having flavour. Staring up at the ceiling was more interesting than getting out of bed. Arguments with his family came more common. He said things he didn’t mean, the snap of his tongue being faster than his ability to hold back.  _

_ On some days it felt comforting to just take too many painkillers and rot away under his bedsheets.  _

_ By August, he noticed that it wasn’t just comfortable. It was hard to get out of bed. Tadashi felt dizzy when he stood for too long. His fingers had started to get thin, his skin drained of tan. When he’d really stared into a mirror for the first time in months, dull alarm settled into his mind.  _

_ His ribs stuck out more than they had ever before, and Tadashi started to feel like a walking corpse.  _

Rolling his shoulders back was a weak attempt to grow comfortable in the metal chair. Takeda talked excitedly about some “our more ready friends” looking into some local sports event for either injured or disabled athletes to participate. Daichi had already raised his eyebrows at Tadashi from across the circle. Their silent conversation was practically audible to anyone who paid attention to their expressions. 

“ _We could go._ ”   
_“Absolutely not._ ”   
“ _Why?_ ”   
“ _Don’t care._ ”   
He played with the holes in his jeans, pulling at the loose strings. Group had just started. Just forty-five more minutes, and he’d be free to leave. Free to go home and fret about the hospital visit. 

_ That didn’t feel very freeing.  _

The poor sucker Tadashi gave “illegal advice” to from a few meetings ago was still here. Whenever they made eye contact, it was uncomfortable on an astronomical scale. A new kind of guilt gnawed at his stomach. Sakunami looked thin. 

“Does anybody have anything particular on their mind today?” 

_ Thank you, Takeda, you glorious nerd bastard. Thank you and your mind-reading abilities.  _

He slightly raised his hand up, side-eyeing Daichi. Takeda looked overjoyed at his participation. “Yamaguchi! Always glad to hear from you.” 

Definitely not true over the last incident. With a clearing of his throat, he got to his feet. “So, uh, hi.” The circles murmured a hello back. “I, um, I know it’s really uncomfortable speaking up about addiction. Especially if you’re worried about people not taking you seriously.” His gaze settles on Sakunami, looking back up at him with furrowed brows. “I really struggled with it a few years ago, I’m clean of opioids now.” Everyone gave quiet congratulations of sorts. “And I guess my real advice would be to be truthful to your doctor about it and actively try to get help before you regret not doing so.” 

His little speech runs out, awkwardly losing volume at the end. Daichi’s lips upturn into a soft smile, giving a soundless clap. Not knowing what to do with his hands, or his body really, he sits back down. Takeda gives a clap as well, this one being loud, however. 

“Thank you for sharing. It’s always helpful to hear advice from those who’ve gone through the same thing.” 

_ Just the right thing to do,  _ he thinks to himself. 

“You sound a lot cooler when you actually talk, y’know.” Daichi slapped a hand on his shoulder from behind. 

The change almost misses the vending machine slot and he briefly thinks about the first time they met. “What’s that supposed to mean?”   
He smiles and pushes the button for him. It’s been the same thing every Wednesday for five years. “When you’re sitting there frowning all the time, you look like a kid being forced to sit in that chair. It’s a lot nicer when you talk. Makes you actually sound like a cool dude.”   
“Ha, funny.” The can of grape soda falls into the bottom compartment. Tadashi picks it up, turning back to face him. “Now I’m never talking again. Gotta live up to my expectation of being the least cool person on the planet.”   
The area on his shoulder still feels warm from his touch. “Nah, that’s not true.”   
_Don’t say that shit._

“Hey, um, Yamaguchi?” Both of them look towards Sakunami, standing near them wringing his hands. “Do you think I could, uh, ask for… uh, advice?”   
Daichi clasps his shoulder again before shifting his weight as momentum to step back with the cane. “I’ll leave you guys to it. See you around.”   
Although it makes him a little nervous, he turns to the other with a smile. 

“Always.”    
  


Kageyama had started looking better. Less frail, less tired. 

_ Less like a corpse. _

_ Shut up.  _

“Do you not have a job, Yamaguchi?” He asked one night, helping him wash dishes. The one thing he could compliment with certainty was that he was very responsible when it came to helping around the house. That, and well, being very concerned over power consumption. 

“I do, I’m a mechanic. I’m just, uh,” he scrunched up his nose, “suspended for the rest of this week.” 

“Jesus.”   
“I know.”   
He takes the dish handed to him, drying it and putting it in a cabinet. “What’d you do?”   
_Oh man, what tone do I explain it in?_

“I punched a guy for harassing me.” It was his firm belief that this was the truth. No matter what Shimida said, he’d stick by it. 

“That doesn’t sound fair.” Kageyama furrows his brows. “How come you got punished? Isn’t that just self-defense?” 

_ Where was THIS guy when I needed backup?  _

With a sigh, he leans his weight against the counter. “Didn’t count. Legally, um, it doesn’t count.” Tadashi so desperately wishes he could ignore the weird look he got. Desperately wished he didn’t need to talk about this more. “It was about the, uh, _gay_ … thing.”   
“Ah.”   
_That’s it?_ _  
_ _Alright._

“So you  _ are  _ gay.” Kageyama instead snaps and looks off into the distance, thoughtfully. 

Okay, now he’s confused. “Yeah. That’s what I just said.” 

“Well, no, I just noticed how close you were with Yachi. I wasn’t sure how, uh…” he waves around him, “you leaned?”   
“I lean _gay_ ,” he deadpans. “Hitoka is just a close friend. I’ve known her for a long time. Now, c’mon. We need to talk about, well, you.”   
Tadashi tugs on his sleeve, pulling him to the table. Things are fine for a moment, him just him hoping that getting him back up on his feet and feeling safe will be easy. And then he noticed it. 

Kageyama rattled when he walked. 

It’s a small sound, one he honestly wouldn’t have noticed if the man hadn’t bumped into the chair. His head shoots up to stare at him, but he doesn’t notice and takes a seat across from him. 

“Okay, uh, first I think we need to talk about the wallet situation.” Tadashi cautiously sits down, opening the notebook in front of him to take notes like a secretary. “Please tell me you didn’t _Into the Wild_ this and burn all of your cards and money.” He blinks back at him. _Uh oh._ “Oh my god, you did, didn’t you.”   
“What?” His brows slant. “No. No, they’re at my apartment. I just didn’t know what you were referencing.” 

_At least he’s stupid._ “It’s a movie. Anyway, all of your stuff is in your apartment? Have you been there since leaving?”   
He shakes his head. 

“And what about your job?”   
“I resigned a month ago.” Blond hair twirls between his fingers as he looks at his bangs rather than Tadashi. “My last paycheck is still probably on my counter, I think.” 

“Do you plan on going back? What about rent?” Instead of really writing anything down, he finds himself doodling. 

Kageyama frowns, he can tell from the corner of his eye. “I’m dead. You know that.”   
“You can’t do this forever, though.” Tadashi finally looks up from the ink volleyball on his paper. “There’s a chance that no one ratted you out, you know.”   
He shifts in his seat and the sound is there again. Quiet, but there. “You don’t understand. I just… I just can’t go back into that life.”   
It sticks in his head, that little sound. All too familiar to the sound of the shrooms in his closet. Like a heartbeat in his head, over and over again with the rattling of… of _something._

“If you don’t want to go back to that life, then throw away the bottle in your pocket.” There isn’t a single part of the sentence he doesn’t mean. 

He’s surprised, eyes widening. The hand he was using to twirl his hair pauses. “What?” His voice is quiet, caught off guard. 

“I’m not stupid.” The doodle gets scribbled through. “Throw away the bottle in your pocket. It’s drugs, right?” 

“It’s not.”   
_The swallow._

_ The darting of his eyes. _

_ The uncomfortable shift in the chair.  _

Kageyama was a bad liar. 

“Then put it on the table.”   
No response. 

“I’m not going to let you stay here if you’re not going to make an effort.”   
It’s enough to make him stew. 

“Kageya-”  
In a fit of rage, he pulls it out and slams it on the table. It startles Tadashi, the movement shaking the table slightly. It’s a prescription bottle, less than half-full of white tablets. Before the other changes his mind, Tadashi snatches it and reads the label.   
“Xanax? How long have you been on this?” He questions, furrowing his brows. Kageyama refuses to look back towards him, face red with embarrassment, 

Whatever he says is too mumbled to hear. 

“What?”   
“Almost a year.” 

“Medical or-” 

He’s interrupted by the man abruptly standing up from the table. He keeps both hands on the wood, staring down. “Yamaguchi, I know what you’re trying to do, but I-I can’t quit. I can’t.” 

Tadashi stares at him. “Why not?”   
“I’m going to _fucking_ die if I do.” His head hangs between his shoulders, the blond falling from his forehead. “I just can’t.” 

The pen rolled between his fingers. 

_ I’m going to fucking die.  _

_ I’m going to die.  _

_ Dramatic. Dramatic. _

_ Tadashi was being dramatic.  _

_ His nausea was so strong he couldn’t pick himself up from the bathroom floor tiles. Everything hurt, not just his back. It was too early in the morning to call for help from anybody.  _

_ Anybody.  _

_ God, Tadashi didn’t have anybody anymore.  _

_ He was being dramatic. This was his own fault.  _

_ With one weak hand gripping the toilet rim, he pulled himself up to dry heave once again into the bowl. There wasn’t even anything to throw up anymore, just pain rippling through his insides.  _

_ He didn’t ask for this. All he wanted for things to stop hurting.  _

_ Now he felt like he was dying.  _

Standing up, he took a step towards Kageyama and placed a hand atop his head. “C’mon, stand up straight. No one’s dying around here.” 

“You don’t understand.”   
“No, I do.” 

Kageyama’s head raised, looking at him suspiciously. 

“I’ve tried before. You don’t understand, I just  _ can’t _ .” 

Tadashi smiles, holding a thumbs up. “I made a promise, didn’t I? As long as I’m here, you can.”   
Even if Kageyama is a liar, Tadashi isn’t.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone the other day was talking to me about the phrase "italics abuser" and i was sweating in my seat pretending like i didn't know how well that pertained to me LMAOOO  
> also SORRY!!! sorry!!! op has NO excuse for this taking a FAT minute bruh. i've had this chapter ready for a while but i just didn't upload it for like no reason. anyway!!! school is over for me and im sososo relieved omg. im worried cuz im moving far away soon and it's got me hella concerned cuz uh,,,, yknow *motioning to the widespread pandemic*. anyway sorry i like to talk and the end notes is the only place i really can like TALK cuz even if i dont know my readers, yall are my homies  
> anyway im so sorry all im good at is taking away the iconic looks of characters. first bokuto and akaashi, now kageyama. when will the terror of hair dyeing end? who knows, either way, all i wanted rn was platinum-blond kageyama cuz im too scared to bleach my own hair lmao  
> (this is also literally the longest author's note ever but akiteru's plan is supposed to be fucked up. im not stupid i promise his plan IS fucked up and im writing it to be that way)
> 
> okay! make sure you're washing your hands, staying home, and staying healthy. stay safe guys :) i'll cya next time^^ tysm for reading, just for that you're a babe


	7. the estranged black sheep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh guess who hasn't uploaded in 3 weeks
> 
> also PSA: cold turkey is the worst way to fight a xanax addiction do not take their method as advice it is extremely unsafe

Six hours. That’s how long it took for everything to go downhill. 

“Yamaguchi.”   
“No.”   
“ _Please!_ ” 

“No.”   
Kageyama laid on the pull-out couch, pillow clutched over his head. The headache was first, evolving into a migraine. Tadashi had turned off the lights and given him a glass of water, thinking they could just go to bed and deal with the peak tomorrow. Things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan, however. It was now maybe half after two in the morning. He himself was cooped up in the armchair, legs hanging over the side texting Daichi. Refusing to unhide the bottle was extremely difficult in the first few hours, him feeling so guilty for the physical pain he had. The next few hours had made things easier, reminding himself that this was for the best. 

**daichi:** Why are you up, anyway?   
  


“Yamaguchi,” Kageyama whined out. He was already getting ready to decline the request, but this time it was something different. “Please turn off the ringer. It’s _so loud._ ”   
His voice was barely above a whisper near the end of his sentence, like he was trying not to be loud himself. Tadashi suddenly felt guilt for the past four hours he’d been texting back and forth. “Ah, yeah. Sorry.” 

There was no response as he switched his phone to silent, nearly forgetting to respond to the text. Daichi didn’t know about Kageyama, but he didn’t plan on him finding out. Nothing good would come out of it.

**t:** working on my kitchen floor

**daichi** : You’re gonna have a nightmare trying to sell your house.

**t** : im not moving anytime soon tho

**daichi** : I don’t see you staying here for much longer. 

**t** : ???

Turning off his phone with a sigh, Tadashi took a quick moment to close his eyes. He was _so_ tired. Sleeping shouldn’t feel a chore. It hadn’t in a long time, at least. His position in the armchair was uncomfortable and hurt his back, but it was too much a chore to change now. If he got comfortable, he’d probably…

_Late September smelled like hope and change. A disgustingly sappy sentiment he’d learned to have over the past month. Autumn was the beginning of new starts for him, forget spring. Comfortable hoodies, colourful leaves, everything he could ask for._

_“Hey, can you reach that for me?” Daichi handed him some change, pointing to the koi food dispenser._

_Smiling, Tadashi nodded. The park they were at was nice. It wasn’t the big one he liked, the one by his family home, but still nice. A pond sat in the middle, surrounded by a path for viewing and, well, feeding. A small thanks was traded for the palm-full of fish food. On some days, Daichi was just quiet. Lost in thoughts that he didn’t like to explain. That was fine. He understood. Sometimes it was just hard to find the energy to be._

_Large mouths came up to the surface as the kibble was tossed into the water, all trying to get even the smallest piece. Tadashi looked at his feet, scuffing his shoes on the path. It always pissed off his mom when he’d done that, her telling him off for ruining the shoes. He didn’t care too much, though. His skate shoes were_ meant _to be fucked with. Lately, he’d thought them quite empty, just wanting to grab a marker and scribble all over them._

_The last of the food fell to the water, the fish now fighting over nothing. Daichi’s grip on the armrest of the wheelchair tightened, knuckles going white. Tadashi couldn’t read his thoughts, could hardly even read what mood he was in. It didn’t quite feel like the right time, but then again, it never did._

_With his foot, he gently kicked the wheel with the side of his foot to gain his attention. Daichi looked at him, blank-faced with expectancy._

_“Yeah?”_ _  
__“I think I’m in love with you.”_ _  
__His expression changed. Not to one that said, “Yes, Yamaguchi! I thought you’d never admit it! Let’s get married!” It was one with furrowed brows and a frown._ _  
__Late September was nice, but all it really did was signal the coming of winter_

With the sudden feeling that he had fallen, Tadashi sat up with wide eyes. _Shit!_ He _had_ fallen asleep! Through dazed confusion, he read the time on his phone. 

“Jesus, two hours?” His voice croaked unpleasantly. 

This wasn’t the perfect start to his day. Kageyama appeared to have finally fallen asleep, at least. In the dark, he could still see the light colour of his hair against the futon mattress. As quiet as he could be, Tadashi got up from the chair, wincing at the pulsing ache that bounced up and down his spine. Pausing by the coffee table, he stopped and looked over at the couch. Kageyama’s side rose and fell slowly, softly breathing. 

Okay. Definitely asleep. 

Sighing in relief, he made his way back to his own bedroom. It was early morning, still a little too early for anyone to be awake in the world. Or at least Japan. Too early to be awake, yet too late for him to try and actually get sleep. It was Thursday. 

Dreaded Thursday.

 _Was it?_ He sighed, leaning against the closed door. Tadashi wasn’t necessarily _dreading_ going to the hospital, if anything he was just nervous as all hell. Everything about the scenario was uncomfortable. He wasn’t even certain that Tsukishima would want to see him. Plus, he’d probably found out about how he’d accidentally outed him and… _yeesh._ This would be difficult. 

The second issue lay on his couch, asleep. There was no telling how long it would take for the withdrawals to end. Even in his own case, everything was unpredictable. Some days, he thought he was getting better. Then the next day, he thought his world was ending. Either way, Tadashi had to go back to _work_ soon. Yaichi couldn’t help for the rest of the week because of her own job. He didn’t want to leave Kageyama alone to suffer, but what the hell else was he supposed to do? 

For half a second, the idea of quitting his job popped into mind. Tadashi frowned, pushing off the door. As he stood just in the centre of his room, he mulled over that idea. It hadn’t ever been something he wanted, to quit working at Shimida’s garage. He _liked_ his job, he did. Fixing cars was satisfying, even if it had never been his dream. 

“I don’t want to quit,” he mumbled to himself as to reinforce the thought before moving to sit at his desk. 

The flash drive still sat connected to his laptop, catching his eye as he signed on. As soon as everything loaded, the last webpage he was on still popped up. Guilt fled into the back of his mind, but not enough to exit the tab. It was his own business. Nothing could make him feel guilty about it. No one here could. 

_I don’t see you staying here for much longer._

He shrugged off the memory of the text, instead pulling up a new window on his search engine. Tadashi wasn’t particularly sure of what he was even doing online but it felt more productive than sitting on his bed doing nothing or sitting on his bed… _never mind._ He wouldn’t. Not with Kageyama in the next room, at least. Common courtesy was the most he could do for his guest at the moment. After staring at the blank search bar for a minute or two, he finally typed in Tsukishima’s hospital’s visiting times, even though he already knew. Almost four hours until nine, which was when the hospital was open for visiting. Four hours to sit around doing nothing. 

His hand hovered over the new tab button, thinking to himself without any linearity. The usual “sad and nostalgic” act only came over him about once a month, not unusually around these hours. Sometimes it would hit him in the middle of working under the hood of a car, or as he ate dinner alone quietly. Now, there was nothing to distract him. The search bar was merely a guide to giving in. That he did, starting to type in for Facebook. He never used it anymore. He probably hadn’t used it in at least four years. Or at least, he hadn’t _posted._ Facebook was for guilt during times like this. 

Finding his sister didn’t take terribly long. The younger one was the only that had unblocked him not long after the whole family ordeal. They hadn’t spoken in those four years, even though he’d been meaning to. Tadashi was embarrassed of what he’d done. Embarrassed that he’d fucked up so bad that none of his family talked to him anymore. Embarrassed that his excuse to others was that coming out didn’t go well, even though it _had_. Embarrassed that the only way he felt involved with his family was through various photos and status updates from his sister’s Facebook page. 

She’d turned twenty-one this year. His mom recently bought a dog. His older sister had moved to Taiwan with her husband. Their wedding was probably the last family event he went to before things went downhill. Should have been a good memory, but all he remembered was starting a fight with his father and leaving the reception within twenty minutes. 

It wasn’t his proudest moment. 

After a few minutes of scrolling around her page, he exited with a sigh. There was little use in stalking his family online. The only real way to fix things would just be to go home and apologise. His family house was still in Tokyo, across the street from the park he went to with both Kageyama and Hitoka. Part of Tadashi had hoped that they’d see him, somehow. See him with his better fitting clothing and looking less like a walking corpse. See him with friends and know that he’s gotten better. In the reflection of the computer screen, he can see how long his hair has gotten since he’d left home; the green that was starting to grow out from his naturally dark hair. 

Maybe they wouldn’t even recognise him. 

By ten, Kageyama is still asleep. Tadashi thinks he might be running a fever. This worries him, but he can’t fully check until he’s awake. Before leaving the house, he leaves out another glass of water with a note saying where he is and an estimate of how long he’ll be. There’s no way to really gauge if his estimate is right or not. Hell, there isn’t even really a way to gauge whether he’ll be welcome or not. 

He continues the mix, music beginning to play through his earbuds. There’s a wide variety of genres, similar to some nights on the radio. Tadashi can’t say he _loves_ every song, but overall he likes the playlist. It keeps him company on the train, that of his own Banquo standing next to him. 

“Not a lot of people here,” Tsukishima muses. This version of him doesn’t really resemble the other ones. 

“It’s Thursday morning. Most everyone is already at work,” he shrugs back. 

“Not you, though.” 

“Not me.”   
The train stops at the first station. A few people get on, a few get off. Tadashi thinks he might recognise someone from being in his graduating high school class, but it isn’t like he’s willing to ask.

“You could’ve worn something a bit nicer.” Tsukishima pulls at the sleeve of his shirt, one displaying his old university’s logo. “Don’t you think?”   
It’s true. “Yeah, probably.”   
“Don’t think I’ll mind?”   
“Not sure if you’d care.”   
“Fair enough.”   
It takes another fifteen minutes before he arrives at his stop. The mental conversation he held ended at his own personal doubts about his wardrobe. Admittedly, Tadashi didn’t care much when he begrudgingly got dressed for the day. But really, he didn’t think anyone would be judging. A hospital visit was just that. It wasn’t a catwalk. 

He steps out at his station off-beat with his song, internally cursing himself for not timing it right. The walk to the hospital feels a little longer today, a little hotter, and a lot more nerve wracking. A scenario involving Tadashi saying hello in front of Tsukishima’s whole family makes him want to puke. Would they be in there with him? There was no real way to tell, not until he set foot in the hospital room. As soon as the brick building came into sight, he swallowed his pride. 

This wasn’t about him anymore. 

Unlike last time, Tsukishima’s family wasn’t anywhere to be seen in the main lobby. The piece of paper he’d received yesterday sat in his pocket. After fishing it out and staring at it for a moment, he decided to pause his music and ring up the only person he thought might be helpful in this situation. 

“ _Yamaguchi?_ ” Akiteru’s voice sounded nearly hopeful in the way he answered. 

“Yeah, um, hi. I’m at the hospital now and uh-”   
“ _Oh, thank goodness. Do you need help finding the room?_ ”   
At first, he nodded. Then he realised that a visual confirmation was of no use. “That would be great, thanks. I’m, uh, I’m downstairs.” 

“ _Cool. That’s great. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Hang tight, okay?”_ _  
_That he could do. Tadashi was hung up on soon after. He removed his earbuds and wrapped them around his phone, shoving the whole thing into his pocket. There was an awkward interval where he just stood around, not sure what to do. Not sure what to do with his hands. Not sure what to do with his _body._ Sitting seemed to be a good idea, but most of the seats were taken. Sitting super close to strangers didn’t seem that enticing either, so he stayed standing close to the door and debated whether to take his phone back out or not. 

Luckily enough, however, Akiteru didn’t take terribly long to find him. It appeared that he’d _ran_ down, eyes scanning for Tadashi until they lit up and he made his way over. The poor guy looked tired, probably just like him. His eyes had dark circles underneath, juxtaposing his bright smile. 

“Morning!” He said, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. “I’m glad you came. I thought this could be a nice surprise for him.”   
Tadashi weakly smiled back, giving a thumbs up and immediately regretting doing so. “Well, thanks for asking me to come, I guess.” 

Akiteru started bringing him to the elevator, talking about how the flowers he’d brung yesterday were lovely and how nice of an addition they were to the energy in the room. He was really good at talking without making things feel awkward. Tadashi politely listened to how nice the medical staff were and how they hadn’t had many issues with the press this week. It was enough to make the walk feel shorter and more comfortable, even if everything was giving him enough bad nostalgia to make a man sick. 

Tsukishima’s room wasn’t really what he expected. It wasn’t a room at all, really. The whole room was curtained off into more private sections, which was apparently all they could get. Akiteru made him wait outside for a moment, walking inside their squared off area to talk to his brother. Tadashi gave it his all not to listen to their hushed conversation, but it happened anyway. 

“Why are you acting so weird?” 

“You have a special visitor.”   
He admittedly cringed at the wording, not considering this a particularly pleasant surprise for Tsukishima. 

“What? Jesus, Akiteru, I don’t want to see anybody.”   
_Fair enough._

“It’d be so rude to turn him away, just be thankful, alright? Let people care about you.” 

“Fine.” 

Seconds later, Akiteru popped back out with a smile as if their mini-argument had never happened. “You’re good to go! I’ll give you some privacy. Do you drink coffee?”   
“Uh, yeah. Black.”   
“Cool. I’ll buy you one. Don’t worry about paying me back.” Akiteru slapped him on the back before jogging away, leaving him alone with the white curtain. Er, and Tsukishima, he supposed. 

His feet were frozen in place, too scared to enter. In the back of his mind, he probably figured he looked like a psychopath just standing there. Then again, it was more than likely no one in this hospital room cared about him in the slightest. Because really, this wasn’t about him anymore. 

That was enough to give him the courage to slide open the curtain and timidly step inside the make-shift room. It wasn’t much, really. There was a single chair and bed-side table, holding the flowers he’d bought in a plastic vase. The hospital bed stayed to the side of the curtain, I.V. stand just next to the chair. 

Tsukishima didn’t look up for a moment, eyes focused on a book he held close to his face. His glasses were nowhere in sight and his face was thin and tired-looking. For the briefest of moments, Tadashi thought about Kageyama.   
“Hi.” He said awkwardly, not really sure what else to do. 

From the bed, his eyes raised towards Tadashi and squinted. There was no real emotion on his face as his attention turned back to the book, but then he did a double take and furrowed his brows. 

“Yamaguchi? Why are you- why are you here?” 

He had trouble deciphering what tone that held. “I wanted to see you?” 

There was an awkward silence between them before Tsukishima closed his book. “I mean, like, thanks, I guess.” 

Tadashi couldn’t take anymore of this. He swallowed his nerves and fixed his posture, reminding himself that if he’d been able to lead their conversations before, he could do the same now. He walked over to the chair and sat down confidently, smiling. 

“How’ve you been?” It was a stupid question, he knew that. 

Tsukishima seemed to think the same and completely ignored that. “Don’t you hate me or something?”   
“I don’t hate you.” Tadashi frowned. “I was upset that one time, but I never hated you.” 

He sighed, running his hands through his hair and resting his forehead against his fingers. “God, this is embarrassing.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed.”   
The look he gives him is understandable. “It’s embarrassing and you know it. Don’t patronise me,” he snapped. His face softened, as if he were the one that received the blow. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” The smile stays on his face. “I liked the mix you made.”   
Tsukishima goes wide-eyed, cheeks reddening. “Oh, Jesus. You have it?”   
“Suga gave it to me,” he hums out, crossing his legs and resting his head on his wrist. “It’s nice. Wish I could’ve heard it on the radio, though. And not with all this going on.”   
“Same.” They both laugh, although it’s more of just an exhale. “If anything I wish I could’ve done a better one. I wasn’t really all there when I made it.” 

“I still like it.”   
“That’s sad for you.” 

With his free hand, Tadashi lightly traces a finger up and down the side of Tsukishima’s wrist, careful to avoid the area around the I.V. line. “I’m sorry I got mad. We should have just talked it out like adults, huh?”   
“Not your fault.” 

“Not really yours either,” his eyes flick up to his face, “although you could really work on the way you speak to women, hm? Should take a course on being a gentleman.” 

“This isn’t so hard, huh?” Tsukishima is still under his touch. “Talking like adults, I mean.”   
“We gotta get used to it eventually.”   
“Right.” 

“Right.”   
He continues the gentle movement of his finger, appreciating their pause. Only when he hears the irregular breathing pattern does he look up. Instantly met with surprise, Tadashi pulls back his own hand. 

Tsukishima is crying. 

The sight of someone crying is jarring. Even hearing it, like he had with Kageyama. That had haunted him for days, but _seeing_ Tsukishima, someone he thought overall as well at containing emotions, _crying_ was just… bizarre. Tadashi himself hadn’t cried in maybe three or four years. After perfecting the art of blocking away tears, he just found it odd when anyone else cried. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, voice cracking from how unprepared he was to deal with this. “It’s okay.”   
He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe for a moment. “It’s pathetic.”   
“What is?” 

“This.” For a moment, Tadashi’s almost offended. Then Tsukishima continues. “I shouldn’t be here. _You_ shouldn’t be here. I let this happen again and it’s _pathetic._ ”

There’s nothing he can say to that. Nothing to contradict it. “It’s okay.” 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”   
“Sorry.”   
There’s a pair of footsteps that comes near the curtain. He thinks it might be Akiteru, but the shoes he can see aren’t ugly brown loafers. They’re nice, black sneakers. Tsukishima notices as well, swiping his fingers under his eyes to remove and tears and settles back into a stony expression. It’s terrifying, really. How fast he can hide a breakdown. 

The curtain slides open as Tadashi is still focused on Tsukishima. When whoever it is walks in, he can see the hard expression go through a series of different feelings. _Co_ _nfusion, anger, sadness, and disappointment._ He turned to look, unsure at first as to who he was even looking at. The man was in an all-black outfit ensemble. Tadashi couldn’t help but wonder how he hadn’t overheated yet. His hair was dark and curled at the ends, frosted tips sticking way out from the rest of his dark look. He was familiar in a way, looking at them under dark lashes. Then it hit him. If this man had been wearing eyeliner, he would’ve instantly recognised him. 

It was the man from the band. 

Tadashi couldn’t help but find the ride home lonely. Even with the mass of men and women on their lunch break, he couldn’t help but feel alone. His earbuds stayed probably tangled in his pocket, keeping his train ride in silence. With one hand on the railing, he stared off into space only really thinking about how this young woman sitting down across from him wore green in her hair way better than he did. _Maybe he should get Hitoka to fix his hair._

He wasn’t particularly anxious to get home, but walking up to his doorstep was the emotional equivalent of getting a hug. After unlocking his door and walking in to slide off his shoes, he called out towards Kageyama. 

“I’m back, are you awake?” 

No response came back, leaving him in worry. Tadashi was quick to make his way into the living room, finding Kageyama sitting upright on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. 

“Hey, are you alright?” 

His eyes shifted towards him, shaking his head slowly. 

Tadashi frowned, coming closer and taking a seat next to him. “Are you cold? It’s, like, really hot outside right now.” By putting the back of his hand up to his forehead, he could feel how hot he was. “Jesus, let me grab a thermometre.” 

Doing so only revealed the obvious. His fever was really high, sort of sending him into a panic. _Jesus. God. Uh, how did I do this for myself, even?_ After running a washcloth under cold water, he hurried back to the couch. 

“Hold this up to your forehead a bit, okay?” Tadashi held it out, watching his slow movements. Moving the blanket was probably his first mission. It wasn’t that hard of a task, he gave up very little of a fight. 

After doing so, however, Kageyama leaned against his shoulder. Water dripped down from the wet cloth pressed to his forehead down onto Tadashi’s pants. The head on his shoulder was heavy, but he ran a hand over his hair a few times in a soothing manner. 

“You’ll be okay, we’ll get through this, I promise.” 

Holding his head closer to his neck was comforting, even if Kageyama felt like he was burning like a forest fire. It was enough to contradict his feelings on the train. Even if he was feeling lonely, he really wasn’t all that alone. 

Kageyama’s fever stayed constant throughout the weekend. It didn’t necessarily go up, but it didn’t go down either. This was worrying for a number of reasons. First of all, of course a constant fever was terrifying. Tadashi could hardly take care of _himself_ , so feeling out of control of the situation was horrific. Then there was work. Shimida texted him to let him know to come back on Monday. That meant that he would be away for hours upon hours during the day and would have even less control. Everything was like a twisting, turning tornado that was ripping up everything that kept him right-side-up. 

Sunday night left his stomach churning with the idea of not being able to help more. For now, however, things were peaceful. Tadashi thought the room was freezing, but did less than complain. He’d found his rotating fan, pointing it directly at the two on the couch. Their position was similar to that of Thursday afternoon, Kageyama resting on Tadashi’s shoulder. He was being almost clingy, if one could call it that. It wasn’t that he minded, though. As Kageyama slept on him, he could get a lot of work done on his laptop. 

“Why are you looking at real-estate?” The other man yawned, hardly moving from his spot. 

_Oh. Not asleep, then._ Reflexively, he switched to a different tab. The guilt came back into his head. 

_I don’t see you staying here for much longer._

No. Not guilty. It was his own business. No one should feel guilty over their _own_ business. He didn’t feel guilty. 

“Just thinking about the future,” he hummed out as a response. “Do you want something to eat? I should probably make dinner.”   
“Not hungry.” 

“You should eat, still.”   
“I’ll puke if I eat anything right now.” 

“Fair enough,” he sighs out in defeat. “Sit up, I’m gonna grab you some water.” 

With some protest, he got Kageyama to instead lean against the armrest of the couch as he stood up and headed to the kitchen. The uneven amount of weight on his shoulders for the past hour or so was uncomfortable, even after it was gone. Rolling his shoulders back only helped slightly as discomfort shot down his spine in the form of a deep ache. After tossing some ice into a cup, Tadashi stared down at the tiles of his floor. He hadn’t done one in a while, being preoccupied by a certain somebody on his couch. 

_You’re gonna have a nightmare trying to sell your house._

_I don’t see you staying here for much longer._

An idea popped into his head. 

“Hey, Kageyama?” He called out just as the water from his sink filled the cup to the brim. There was a wordless grumble of a response from the living room. “Could you come here for a sec?”   
The other man said nothing in return, but the slow sounds of movement gave Tadashi hope. A minute or two after, Kageyama appeared in the doorway, wrapped up in the blanket once again. 

“I already told you. If I eat anything, I’m gonna throw up.”   
“No, not that.” 

Kageyama scowled at him, something that Tadashi had learned was more of a sign of confusion rather than anger. He grinned at him back and pointed downwards. 

“Do you like to paint?” 

Half an hour later, the two sat on opposite ends of his small kitchen. Kageyama was cross-legged and intently painting a bird of sorts. He wasn’t much of an artist, but that was okay. On his own tile, Tadashi had been painting Kageyama painting. As much as he refused the idea of being somewhat artistically talented, he was now able to sit back and feel pretty proud of his work. 

“This looks like shit,” Kageyama said very bluntly as he gazed down at the bird. 

Tadashi moves closer, looking with him. “It’s not that bad,” he offers. 

“It’s shit. Do you have a way to remove this?” He seemed genuinely concerned over the quality of his bird, as if his one tile ruined the entire kitchen. 

It was hard not to laugh at that. “Nope, sorry. It’s there forever now. Give me your hand.” 

He was obviously suspicious, but did so anyway. Tadashi took it and reached towards the blue paint he had been using. Once dipping the brush in a few times, he swiped it all the way from the base of his palm to the tips of one of his fingers. There was little fight from Kageyama as he covered his whole hand in the paint, thankfully. He just watched intently as Tadashi worked, finally finishing the coat. 

“Ready?”   
“I guess so.”   
He turned over his hand and pressed it to an empty tile, keeping the pressure down for a few seconds before pulling it back up. Kageyama seemed almost surprised by his own handprint, then turning to watch Tadashi cover his own hand in a bright red paint. His handprint was on the tile next to Kageyama’s, the two differing greatly in both size and shape. His own fingers were shorter and slightly crooked compared to Kageyama’s long and thin fingers. 

“Cool.” 

“Yeah, cool.” 

Another smile was brought to his face. Things would be okay. Tadashi could be in control. 

Things would be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your honour, the defendant pleads guilty for not writing in three weeks. anyway im sososo sorry this took forever. writer's block is a bitch. also i go through phases where i literally hate all of my ideas and they embarrass me into paranoia and i stop wanting to upload.  
> but here we go! also im really sad that this story is coming to an end. i kind of wanted to write a few short pieces about the band and other characters in the universe but i also shouldn't stretch anything out, right? idk  
> okay i havent had tumblr in i think three years but if anyone wants to say hi im @/leisvrely also my acc is really boring rn but that's cuz im not in the groove of it anymore. i think im mostly gonna use it to talk about writing and i miss having mutuals i can talk to about hq and other stuff lmaoooo  
> tysm for reading and sticking with me, even when i have horrible uploading and writing tendencies. ur a babe for that
> 
> make sure to stay home, wash your hands, and stay healthy. be safe, homies. i'll cya next time^^
> 
> (if you're reading this believe me i too also believe that i forgot what ship this was originally for ASKSBDFLJSHBD i swear on my life this isnt a yams x kags fic i literally just got too comfortable writing their friendship)


	8. blackout // world's end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: seizure

Walking into the garage on Monday morning felt good. Tadashi arrived at five on the dot, just as he always had. And just like always, he was one of the only workers there. 

Shimida watched him clock in. “No more fighting, right?” 

“Only if I have a good reason.” He turned slightly, seeing the look on his uncle's face and dropped his shoulders with a sigh. “It’s a joke. I’m kidding. No more fighting.”   
The two continued to have light conversation for a few minutes, no tension residing from the last time they had spoken in person. He lied about how he had kept busy for the past two weeks, not mentioning Kageyama. Really, he hadn’t mentioned Kageyama to anyone except for Hitoka. It wasn’t although he went around telling all of his business anyway, but this had become a more than private situation.   
“Any projects I can take?” He asked as he leaned against the door going into the garage, tying up his hair. 

His uncle picked up a clipboard, scanning down the list and squinting. “Uhh, we got a Hyundai yesterday with alternator failure. Take that.”   
“Cool. Sounds good.” The sound of his shoes hitting the stained concrete floor was echoey in the garage as he took a small hop inside. _Alternator failure. Easy. Probably a bad fuse. Good first project of the day._

“Oh and Tadashi?”   
With half-raised eyebrows, he turned around to face his uncle. 

“You should call your mother.”   
He blinked at him for a moment, then turned away without a word. 

Normal work hours began at seven-thirty, giving him a solid two-and-a-half hours to feel at peace in the garage before anyone else showed up. Shimida had adjusted to Tadashi coming during early hours years ago. At first, he just gave him the key and told him to get on with it. His head-start on the day rubbed off on his uncle after a while. Now both of them showed up early, managing to finish projects and paperwork. There was another man that came in early, maybe around six. An older guy Tadashi didn’t know too well, but held a mutual respect with. 

Things were different this week, however. Everyone at work was avoiding him; it wasn’t hard to tell. The man wouldn’t greet him like they had every morning. His workspace neighbours gave him the side-eye, but kept far away. Abe’s nose had a lovely new shape, bending near the centre. Any discolouration seemed to have gone away, leaving him nearly normal enough. Even so, Tadashi caught his glare  _ several  _ times during the morning. 

_ Oh well.  _

To be honest, he just didn’t have the energy to care. Fixing the Hyundai had kept him busy for most of the morning, but what Shimida said was eating away at his brain. He’d been right about the fuses and the replacement hadn’t been too hard, yet somehow the satisfaction just wasn’t there. 

_ You should call your mother.  _

The grip around his pen tightened as he wrote down the total cost of replacements on his clipboard. Like hell he’d call her. All that would do is add unnecessary stress onto his already stressful life. She didn’t want to hear from him, anyway. There was no point.  _ Well.  _ Shimida never said why. That part was worrying.  _ Jesus Christ. Was somebody dying?  _

Abrupting his thoughts was some soft object hitting the side of his head. Tadashi turned in confusion, frown appearing on his face. A balled up cloth fell to the floor. With a sweeping glance around the garage, it didn’t take a long time to figure out who it was. He finally locked eyes, catching Abe’s glare. His co-worker held up his hand, giving him the finger and a grin so cheap he could’ve bought it for a single yen at a yard sale. Tadashi’s eyes flickered back down to the cloth on the floor, looking a little harder to see a particularly nasty word written in marker. 

_ Ah.  _

Tadashi bent down, picked it up, and shoved it in his pocket with little thought. There isn’t enough time in the day to go around picking fights. 

“Kageyama?” He calls out into the house, sliding off his shoes. Making his way into the living room, Tadashi groans in discomfort, placing a hand on his back for support and trying to stretch slightly. The ache just gets so much  _ worse  _ after spending a day bent over. 

His housemate of sorts is asleep, not waking up to Tadashi’s approach. He makes an effort to be more quiet, moving to the kitchen and grabbing his rolling kit and a bottle of water. There’s an awkward limp in his gait as he makes his way to the back porch. In that moment he’s glad Kageyama isn’t awake to see him look so stupid, walking like some old man. He slides open the door and makes his way to the usual chair, briefly thinking about the time Tsukishima had stayed over on a Saturday morning. The lighter he pulls out is cute, he thinks. Hitoka bought it for him a month ago from some convenience store, saying she thought of him. It’s rainbow striped and as out as Tadashi would, he never uses it in public. But still, it’s cute. 

The joint he rolls is thinner than he’d like, but after the ordeal at Kita’s house and him not purchasing, his stash has started to drastically wear out. It’s aggravating really, to have such an abundance of paper with no gas to go inside. He’d rather have to go out and buy gum to use wrappers for makeshift rolling paper than be out right now. Hell, he’d rather roll with bible pages (not that he  _ hadn’t  _ done that in the past) than deal with a fucked paper-to-weed ratio. As of now, however, there isn’t much he can do aside from rationing. 

A thick stream of smoke blows out from his mouth as he unlocks his phone, scrolling through the few notifications he got after his lunch break. The first is a text from Daichi, then a few from Hitoka, and some random news articles he probably won’t read. The hit hurts a little. Tadashi reaches for his water as he responds to messages. 

**daichi:** You should come with me to the store after group this week. I just got a new order of blank cassettes. 

He smiles to himself as he responds. 

**t:** if ur trynna hangout, just text me straight up next time lol 

**daichi:** I wasn’t lying about the cassettes, but fine. Next time I’ll be “straight up”. 

Hitoka’s texts seem like they’re on the verge of panic. Panic or excitement. Those odds terrify him, however. If she was in any sort of panicked situation and he wasn’t there to help when she needed it, he’d never forgive himself. With a hard swallow of water, he calls her. After the fifth ring, she finally picks up. 

“ _Tadashi?_ ”   
He instantly bombards her. “Are you okay? What happened? I just got your texts, I’m so sorry I wasn’t on earlier I should have been. Do I need to call for an ambulance? Or someone? Are you okay?”

“ _It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m okay!”_ She has to interrupt before he goes on any longer. “ _I just needed to know if you were caught up with the news._ ”   
_The news?_ Maybe he shouldn’t’ve been ignoring those notifications. “I haven’t. Why?”   
“ _The trials just finished and they’re closing the drug bust. Kageyama should be safe soon!_ ”   
The joint falls from his lips to his thigh, burning him in the process and taking him out the short moment of shock he had. 

“ _ Tadashi? Are  _ you  _ okay? _ ” 

He balances the phone between his ear and shoulder as he re-lights the joint. “Yeah, just dropped something. How long do you think? ‘Til he’s safe?”   
“ _I dunno. I’d give it a few days, maybe?_ ”   
“A few days. Sick. Can’t wait to tell him.”   
They say their goodbyes and Tadashi takes long drags on the joint, trying to finish it faster. The heavy amount of smoke is too much in his lungs. He’s embarrassed to cough, feeling like a teenager that couldn’t handle his smoke. It doesn’t take long to finish the already small amount of weed. Standing up too fast makes his vision go a little blurry from the head-rush, but he ignores it and hurries back inside. 

Lucky for him, it appears Kageyama is awake and standing.   
“Yo, dude. I was just on the phone with Hitoka and…” his voice falters off. Despite standing with the blanket wrapped around him, something looks off. “Kageyama. Are you feeling alright?”   
Kageyama doesn’t look at him. For a few seconds, he tenses up. Then without much warning, he falls to the floor with a loud noise. Tadashi yelped, surprise making his body go rigid. 

_ What the fuck.  _

_What the fuck just happened?_ _  
__Don’t just stand there, move._

 _MOVE!_ _  
_ His legs come back to life, albeit shaky as he runs over. Kageyama is on the floor convulsing. Tadashi is horrified, not sure what to do. With fingers even shakier than his hands, he looks up a butchered version of what he thinks is happening, simultaneously kneeling over next to him. 

_ Seizure, right?  _

_ Jesus, I’ve never witnessed a fucking seizure.  _

_I don’t know what to do!_ _  
__What the fuck do I do!_

After skimming a quick article, he shoves away the coffee table and the couch. Panic is settling in, heartbeat in his throat. Smoking before having to deal with…  _ whatever  _ the FUCK was going on was the worst idea possible. 

“Kageyama, hey, Kageyama?” He calls out, voice small and childlike almost. His throat is wrapped in barbed wire, tempting the years of built up tears. 

He doesn’t get a response. Terrified of reaching over him or leaving his side to grab the pillows on the other side of the couch, Tadashi instead uses effort to roll Kageyama on his side and rest his head on the underside of his forearm. The pressure hurts him, but he keeps telling himself it doesn’t matter. 

_ Please stop.  _

_ Please.  _

_ Please just STOP.  _

With each breath, his lung capacity got less and less until air was reaching him anymore. The sudden jerks of Kageyama  _ hurt  _ against his arm and watching it made him feel so nauseous. He couldn’t cry. He hadn’t cried in so long that feeling his eyes burn was  _ painful.  _

Then just as soon as it started, the convulsing stopped. Kageyama’s forehead fell into the crook of his elbow and his entire body relaxed. 

_ Please.  _

_Is he dead?_ _  
__Oh my god, he’s dead._

_ He’s dead, I killed him.  _

He could feel small puffs of breath on his arm and his panic began to calm down. Kageyama made a small noise in the back of his throat, opening his eyes. After a few seconds of staring off into space, he owlishly blinks up at Tadashi. 

“What just happened?” His voice croaked. 

Tadashi pulls him up into a hug, not even sure what to say. Kageyama is obviously confused, but slowly moves his arms to hug him back. No tears would be shed, no matter how much his eyes burned. 

Because really, he had no right to cry. 

It took an hour for the two to get off the floor. Even when Kageyama insisted he was fine, Tadashi wouldn’t leave his side. The idea of that happening and him not being there and it happening again made his stomach drop. 

“I don’t think I should go to work tomorrow.”   
Kageyama frowned, curling up a little more in his blanket. “I’ll be fine. Don’t get fucking fired or something.”   
“You had a seizure!” His voice raises unintentionally. “What if I miss something like that?” 

It goes quiet between them. Then he has the  _ audacity  _ to laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Tadashi snapped. 

“I told you it’d kill me to go clean.”   
He doesn’t laugh back. Really, it isn’t funny at all. 

_ “Tadashi, have you seen Mom’s pearl necklace? She’s, like, freaking out. _ ”  _ His younger sister leans in the doorway of his room.  _

_ With some effort, he lifts one of his moving boxes onto another. “Which one?”  _

_ “The  _ pearl  _ one. Y’know, the one that she always wears to formal stuff.”  _

_“Haven’t seen it.”_ _  
__“‘Kay.”_

_ She leaves soon after that. Tadashi picks up his backpack, glancing inside at the necklace he shoved inside haphazardly. After taking his last pill, he tosses the bottle in as well and heads out towards the front door.  _

_“Where are you going?” His dad calls out towards him from the kitchen._ _  
__“I’m gonna go see Daichi.”_

_ He doesn’t hesitate to slip on shoes and head out. There’s a bit of panic in his throat, making it hard to swallow. However, Tadashi couldn’t show it. He couldn’t show his anxiety.  _

_They were starting to notice._ _  
__He was fucked._

“You can’t take time off, are you kidding me?” 

“You can’t either! You already took off two weeks!” 

“That was a suspension! There’s a  _ difference. _ ” 

“No difference when you aren’t getting paid!”   
Despite their efforts to argue in hushed stage whispers, Hitoka and Tadashi’s dispute was still heard. 

“Mom, Dad, stop fighting,” Kageyama called out in a deadpan. “Nobody take time off, I’ll be fine.” 

“Stay out of this,” both of them said at once. 

“Tadashi,” she took his hands in her own, “please just listen to me, okay? I definitely have more vacation days than you. Both jobs combined. I can spare a few of those.”   
His nose scrunches up in defeat. As long as she looks at him with those big eyes, there’s nothing he can do to say no. “Fine!” Tadashi snaps, “One day. Okay?”   
They exit from the main hallway back into the kitchen, where Kageyama sits alone. The three had been in the middle of dinner when the feud started, one over who could be there to watch on the chance that something bad happened again. Hitoka said Tadashi didn’t know what he was doing. He said that _she_ didn’t know what she was doing. Both statements were true. Even though he had done this once before with himself, he never fucking _seized._

The rest of dinner is tense, but not for terribly long. 

“Kageyama,” Hitoka fiddles with her glass, “do you get bored when you’re here?”   
His eyes flicker to the ground. “I mean, sort of, but I don’t have room to complain. I have a roof over my head and Yamaguchi is nice to me so I’d rather stay bored than be on the streets, I guess.”   
“Do you have any hobbies?”   
Then his eyes lit up like shining stars, like he hadn’t been asked that question in a long, long time. 

“You’re more gentle than my regular nail tech,” Hitoka sighed, watching as Kageyama filed down Tadashi’s nails. 

“Some people forget they’re working on other people.” The way he speaks is more of a thought escaping his mouth, hyper focused on his hands. 

Tadashi can’t help but feel a little awkward. It’s nice, of course, to get a manicure of sorts, but he feels off. Scared to let his guard down, scared to watch him drop to the floor and convulse. Scared that he’ll freeze again, but not be able to snap out of it this time. 

“When did you get into this stuff?” He finally decides to ask as he reaches for something from the travel-sized nail kit Hitoka had in her purse.   
Kageyama pushes back his cuticles. “Dunno. My sister taught me that hand-care was really important. She got into beauty school and would teach me stuff and…” His voice trails off, eventually looking embarrassed. “I wanted to go too but, I dunno. I didn’t think anyone would take me seriously. I just went to regular uni instead.”   
“You can always still go. Nothing’s stopping you,” he said, trying not to feel guilty over himself not even finishing university. 

He scoffed. “Nothing except crushing debt. Also the fact that I don’t even have a job anymore.”   
Tadshi and Hitoka exchanged looks, both wondering the same thing. _Should we tell him now_?   
“It doesn’t matter, either way,” Kageyama continued. “What would I do with a cosmetology degree?”   
“Become a nail technician?” She offers up, trying to be helpful. 

“You’re good.” Technically, he doesn’t know if that’s true, but it feels right to add on. 

It’s a surprise to no one when he scowls.  _ The poor guy probably can’t take any sort of compliment.  _ After a few minutes of silence, he sets down the things from her small kit. 

“There. You should really try to clean underneath your nails more, especially with your job.” 

Tadashi takes the moment to admire his hands. He was right, really. There was often a lot of oil or grease that got caught underneath his fingernails. Was it gross? Probably, but at the end of the day he sometimes just couldn’t find the energy to care. 

“There. That’s my only hobby unless you want to count sleeping.”   
He met her gaze again, both of them looking slightly troubled. She was right when she mentioned boredom. Honestly, perhaps it was mean but he hadn’t considered it. Then again, entertainment sort of slipped his mind after this evening. After the never-ending fever. After the anxiety of nearly causing someone else’s death again. 

“Hey, are you coming?” Hitoka called out to him, bringing him out of the trance he had stuck himself into. 

A sad smile crawled onto his face. “Yeah, sorry.” 

He stood and followed her back into the living room. 

_ “I’ll give you seventy thousand,” the man said, looking through some sort of lens at the diamond ring.  _

_ Tadashi could feel his heart fall into his stomach. “Only seventy? That’s a real diamond!”  _

_ He leaned on the counter, pulling up the receipt notebook. “Look, kid, it’s a low-grade platinum band. Seventy is generous. You want higher buyers? Try selling to an idiot.”  _

_ With a grumble, he gave a whatever and agreed to the deal, selling the pawn shop owner the ring he had taken from his parents’ jewelry chest. The man gave him a stack of bills and he went along his unmerry way out of the store. This was bad. Seventy was bad. He was a hundred-twenty thousand short. There was no physical way for him to get enough by the end of the day. No unless he took again, but that was an even worse idea. Twice in one day was pushing it. He’d get caught. Instantly. A wave of nausea ran over him, so strong that he doubled over and leaned against the side of the building.  _

_ “Ah,” he gasped out loud to himself, clutching his side. People on the pavement were probably staring but not a cell in his body cared.  _

_ He was already two days off. Tadashi needed that money by  _ tonight.  _ If not, he was at least eighty percent sure he was going to die. _

Tadashi woke up to the sound of people talking softly. He was leaning on Hitoka’s shoulder as he was before dozing off. The position was comfortable at first, but after extended time it had created a soreness in his neck. Sitting up with a stretch, he glanced over at the two watching something on her phone. 

“ _Today we’ll be doing a lie detector test! Honestly I’m…”_ _  
_ The YouTube video was vaguely familiar. Some channel that was really popular for having charming personalities or whatever on it. He’d never seen much of it, not particularly interested, and found it strange that they were watching it.

“This was filmed an afternoon after the night we’d both tried ecstasy for the first time. He used to complain about how you could pinpoint the exact moment he starts to come down from the high,” Kageyama explains to her. 

“Is he like this in real life? Or is it a character?” She sounds genuinely interested. 

He gives a huff of a laugh. “No, he’s exactly like that all the time. It’s fucking annoying.”   
“Who?” Tadashi rolled his head lazily around his shoulders, attempting to get out the crick in his neck. 

Neither of them look up from the video. “Kageyama’s friend,” Hitoka says. “He’s, er, the one indisposed at the moment.”   
“Got arrested,” he adds on. 

Both Tadashi and Hitoka don’t really know how to react to it. They don’t need to however, as Kageyama shifts uncomfortably and bends over. 

He’s quick to get up. “Hey, hey. Are you okay? What’s wrong.”   
“Gonna be sick.”   
_Ah._

He helps him to the bathroom in a hurry before things get bad. Or worse, rather. Things had been consistently bad for a long time. 

Hitoka sleeps over, not surprisingly. He has no issue with this, never has, but the curious inability to fall asleep has returned. It couldn’t have been later than midnight when the phone buzzes on his nightstand, signalling a call. Picking up, he makes his way out of the bedroom. Kageyama appears to be just as asleep as Hitoka, but even so he makes his way further down into the hallway to avoid disrupting sleep. 

The call connects. 

“ _Yamaguchi?_ ”   
He thinks it’s Akiteru. To be completely honest, he hadn’t looked at the caller I.D. before picking up. Even though he hadn’t slept a wink, his voice sounds like he’d just woken up. 

“Yeah?” He asks back, leaning against the wall. The hallway is narrow. If he tried, he could probably put his feet on the other side and not touch the floor. 

“ _Are you coming to see Kei tomorrow?_ ”   
He tries it and his feet slip back to the floor. “Uh, I don’t think I can.” Pressing matters were currently sleeping in his living room, but it would be tough to explain that. “Work stuff.”   
“ _Yamaaaaguchi._ ” Akiteru stretches out his name. For a moment, Tadashi thinks he might be drunk. “ _I think it would really help him. He hardly has people coming to see him._ ” 

That’s not true. Or at least, he thinks so. That man came to visit. 

“I can visit another day. I, uh, I’m just a little tied up right now with free time.”   
“ _At least have a drink with me, then._ ”   
Tadashi has close to no idea what’s happening at this point. “Uh, what? When?” 

“ _Right now. I’ll text you the address._ ”   
The phone call ended as soon as it began. Just as promised, Akiteru texts him an address of sorts. Moral obligations cursed him, pulling him towards saying yes, even if he didn’t want to. This poor man was out drinking and invited him to go. As long as everyone else was asleep he was fine, right? Aside from sleep, he wasn’t missing out on much. 

After a solid minute or two of standing in the hallway, he decides to go. Even though there’s a lot of internal cursing and physical needs  _ begging  _ him to sleep, it’s probably the right thing to do. Making his way back down the hallway, he grabs his wallet and keys and heads to throw on a pair of shoes. 

“Where are you going?” 

Tadashi jumps out of his  _ fucking  _ skin at Kageyama’s voice. With a small yelp, he tosses his phone and they both cringe at the sound it makes when impacting the floor. 

“Jesus fuck,” he stage-whispers, “why are you awake?” 

“I’ve been awake for, like, hours.” Kageyama stares at him with a slight tilt of the head. It’s hard to make out his face in the dark. “Where are you going?” He repeats. 

With a sigh, he leans his head back and takes a minute to breathe. “I’m meeting somebody. I’ll be back before morning.” As he’s reaching down to grab his phone from the floor, Kageyama asks a new one. 

“Like a dealer?”   
For some reason, he can’t find the strength to answer. 

“Yamaguchi, are you using?”   
It’s too familiar. 

“No.” The snap is fast and probably works against what he’s saying. “I don’t use beyond smoking. Just try to fucking sleep.” 

Leaving things at that, he steps out the front door and under the night sky. 

_ Yamaguchi, are you using? _

_ Yamaguchi, are you using? _

_ Yamaguchi.  _

_Are you using?_ _  
__Tadashi, Jesus Christ._

 _You’re fucking using?_ _  
_ He wants to slam his hand into the table. He wants to slam his hand into the table and maybe cry. 

No. 

Tadashi hadn’t cried in years. He wasn’t going to now. 

The bar wasn’t particularly full. Only a few straggling drinkers sitting at the bar and keeping to themselves. It was easy to lump himself in with them. Akiteru wasn’t there. Tadashi was beginning to think he’d been set up. He’d been set up and should go home. 

Might as well get a drink first. 

His beer was cold in his hand, perspiration occasionally rolling down onto the back of his hand. He stared off into space beyond the bartender making conversation with a customer. It felt like a perfectly average night before this whole mess had started. Back in May, maybe. Back in May he could go out and get drinks by himself and not feel like everything was crashing down. Like he was missing out. Like nothing would never be enough. 

_ Fucking  _ stop  _ with the self pity already.  _

_ Fair point.  _

He exhales slowly and lets the rest of the beer fall into his throat with a slow swallow. A commotion comes from the back area near the bathrooms, but he chooses to ignore it. 

The commotion wouldn’t ignore him back, however. 

A hand slaps on his back as a  _ clearly  _ drunk Akiteru takes a seat on the stool next to him. It’s a bit of a struggle, but eventually he’s able to look over at him and smile. 

“Yamaguchi! Hey, buddy.” He gestures to the back. “So… so sorry. I, uh, got a little sick and needed to stay near the bathrooms, y’know?”   
It’d be generous to say Tadashi is amused. “Yeah. Hey, um, why am I here?” His grip on the bottle runs up and down. 

He sighs out a laugh before signalling the bartender. “Four more rounds, please.” It doesn’t take terribly long for the four shots of whiskey to be placed in front of them. Akiteru neatly lines them up, two in front of himself and two in front of Tadashi. “Needed a drinking buddy. That and I thought we should talk.”   
The two shots sit in front of him obnoxiously. He doesn’t really want to do this tonight. Even so, he picks up the first shot and takes it with ease. He’s never particularly liked whiskey, but has drunk it enough to not be bothered by the feel of fire falling down his throat. 

Or maybe not. Tadashi shuts his eyes tightly for a second before turning to the other man. “Talk about what?”   
He can already hear the possible responses. 

_ The gay thing.  _

_ You trying to fuck my brother.  _

_ How sexualities work.  _

_ Our family is extremely homophobic. Die.  _

“What’s gonna happen.” Whereas he’d only taken one shot, Akiteru had finished both of his one after another. He waves at the bartender again. “Oh, it’s on my tab. Don’t worry.”   
With slight confusion, he took the other shot and placed the glass upside down on the table. That one was easier going down. “What do you mean?”   
Another two shots are placed down in front of him. “You met him, right? The man that came to visit the same day as you?” 

_Oh._ _  
__Him._

“Sort of.” They cheers their shots this time, Tadashi reminding himself to use his left hand. It doesn’t hurt as much, but he wished he had a chaser. “I left after a bit. Conversation seemed a little too personal for me to be there.” 

_“We didn’t know.”_ _  
__“I’m not going with you.”_ _  
__“Kei. We didn’t know. I’m_ sorry. _”_ _  
_ Akiteru winces at his last shot, consistently staying ahead of Tadashi with his intake. “He’s paying the hospital to cover it up.” His voice lowers, as if anyone else in the bar would care. “What I told you last time, it’s gonna happen.” 

_One more down._ “That’s fucked up.”   
“It’s better than prison.”   
“I know.”   
They’re quiet for a moment. Akiteru puts his head in his hands, swaying ever so slightly back and forth.

“When you love someone you’re willing to do the fucked up thing.”   
Tadashi blinks at the statement. He can’t help but feel biased. No one was ever willing to do something like that for him. No one would love him that much. 

_ Call your mother.  _

His brows furrow. “The fucked up thing, huh?” He says under his breath, more of a rhetorical question to a god more so than Akiteru. Both of them seem to have the same thought, reaching their hand up to signal the bartender. 

He’d need a lot more whiskey before having this conversation continue. 

_ Tadashi’s mother was never one to swear. Even when she dropped a pan, or when stubbing a toe, because then she was quick to use something less profane. This trait hardly passed onto him and his siblings. His younger sister swore like a sailor, especially since she was just in high school. All this resulted in was the usual smack over the head with a sandal or the nearest rice spoon, generally amusing him and his older sister. She swore too, but less so. More when she told off an ex-boyfriend or the teenager in the corner store that sneered an ugly word towards Tadashi. Swearing wasn’t that uncommon in their household, only held back with slight punishment and talks about presenting themselves to be professional.  _

_ “Shit!” He hissed to himself upon the needle entering his arm. It had been a month since his dealer moved him onto the lovely Miss Emma, but he still hadn’t perfected the art of self-injection. It was necessary, though.  _

_ Morphine felt a hundred times better than the pills he had been buying.  _

_After slowly injecting the liquid into his arm, he haphazardly tossed the needle into his trash bin, not noticing how it bounced off the rim and onto the floor._ _  
__“Someone took my fucking money!” His youngest sister cried out from the hallway, promptly followed by a light smack._

_ “Again with the language! Check around your room again, you’ve just misplaced it.”  _

_ Tadashi stood up from his bed, slinging his bag over his shoulder. A small stack of cash sat in the bottom, just enough to prove to his dealer that he could pay off the last order. Guilt was overpowered by need. Primal lust, even. Just anything to keep him alive.  _

_ “I’m heading out!” He called out to his family, walking by unsuspiciously. Unsuspiciously and ignorant of the look his mother gave him.  _

_ He remained ignorant upon returning, relief in his chest. Ignorant of his door that he’d left closed sitting open. Almost ignorant of how his mother sat on his bed, head in her hands. Tadashi paused, startled at seeing her quietly sitting there.  _

_ Her eyes turned up, picking up the needle and holding it up at him.  _

_“Tadashi, Jesus Christ. You’re fucking using?”_ _  
__Relief had turned into lead-weight dread. Because really, Tadashi’s mother was never one to swear._

Coming back to life was bizarre. He was in that one area between drunk and… well, no. Tadashi was drunk. 

Maybe he was a thieving, betraying rat but he wasn’t a liar. 

_ Jesus.  _

The bar lights were too bright. Being awake kind of hurt. He wasn’t quite sure when he had fallen asleep. Perhaps it was when he had set his head down after the ninth shot. That would make the most sense. 

_ Okay.  _

_ Stand up.  _

His body felt a puppet with no strings; hard to control and somehow that of a muppet. Akiteru somehow looked better than he did upon first entering the scene. He was chatting up some group of men playing pool, laughing with a glass of water in his hand. 

Tadashi had stopped counting how many shots  _ that  _ guy took, but there was no way he could be okay on-top of how he was acting before. 

_ Left foot. Right foot.  _

_ Move.  _

Despite his head feeling heavy enough on his shoulders to fall off completely, he made his way over and tapped him on the shoulder. He missed at first, and then definitely tapped a little too hard on the second try, but it still worked. Akiteru turned and looked at him with a more pleasant look on his face. 

“Akiteru, I really appreciated the drinks but I think I should head home. Goodnight.” 

He frowned, confused. “Tadashi, wait.”    
_ First-name basis now, huh?  _ _   
_ _ Crazy.  _

“Yeah?”   
“Take a walk with me?”   
There was little reasoning in his head that voiced against the idea. “Yeah,” he shrugged, “why not.”

Maybe Tsukishima had a point. Looking up at the night sky, you really couldn’t see any stars at all. 

_ Kei.  _

_ Kei. _

_ Kei. _

It was a pretty name to him. Elegant. Maybe not for someone who hid their breakdowns in the hospital, but who was he to talk? Better than stealing from your family and pretending like it didn’t happen.

“If you don’t actually want to see him, don’t let me pressure you.” Akiteru’s sway kept in the way he walked. “Don’t wanna force you.”   
He had a bit of trouble wrapping his head around that. “I really do have work tomorrow. You’re not forcing me, I guess.” 

“You sure?”   
“Yeah. I did like him a lot. Like-”   
Tadashi trips over the uneven pavement, Akiteru catching his arm and somehow managing not to let both of them fall. 

“Careful.”    
“Thanks.” 

They walk in silence for a bit. It gives him time to try and straighten his brain out, make it work more effectively. He hasn’t been drunk in a bit, the feeling is almost alien. 

Smoking was so much better.

_ Didn’t feel as good as shooting up, but good.  _

A scowl crawled across his face, walking pace slowing to a stop. Akiteru turned around, hands in his pockets. 

“You okay?”   
“I think I need to call my mom.” 

Akiteru’s apartment was nice. It was a bit messy, but still nice. The two sat on the floor against a wall in the kitchen, staring at the wall across from them. 

“Do you think he just didn’t trust me enough to come out?”   
Tadashi’s brain feels lethargic and part of him doesn’t want to deal with answering. But at the same time, he could tell that the man next to him needed reassurance of some sorts. 

“Prolly just wasn’t ready.”   
“I tried being open with him. So he’d feel comfortable telling me stuff.”   
“It’s hard to come to terms with it yourself. Not to mention explaining to other people.”   
“That’s fair.”   
“It is.”   
Really, he had no room to explain Tsukishima’s sexuality to his brother. Tadashi didn’t know what it was. He had never asked. Unless he deemed it important enough, he generally didn’t ask. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t get it, though. 

Just because his own sexuality crisis wasn’t in full swing anymore didn’t mean it had gotten easier for everyone else as well. 

_ Fuck.  _

He didn’t like thinking about this. 

“Tadashi, your family never kicked you out or anything for that, did they? Don’t want to be insensitive, I guess.” Akiteru rolled his head around to look at him. 

He looked back, then down, then to the side, then back at him. He could be honest. “No.” 

The other man hummed a response, then used a corner of their small table to pull himself up. He sauntered to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle. “Want a drink?”   
_No._

“Sure.”   
Drinking from the bottle was easy, the two passing it back and forth between swigs. He liked to pick a random number between one and ten to choose how many gulps he would take each time. Drinking was easy. 

The after was not. 

Lots of flashes. Flashes of his hands. Bits of conversation. Falling down. 

The tiles of the floor were cool and comforting against his side. 

Flashes of his name. _  
_ And then nothing in particular. 

Tadashi woke up in a place he didn’t recognise for a brief moment. Soft sunshine beamed in through curtains on the kitchen windows. It kind of hurt his head. 

“Kind of” was too simple. 

His head pounded with the fury of a million suns. As he sat up with a groan, he scanned his environment and tried to think clearly. He was still in Akiteru’s apartment. It had to be morning with all of the sunshine. An empty bottle of whiskey sat on a counter nearby, no surprise there. Discomfort crept up his stomach, nausea forming with every movement. 

_ Jesus, this sucked.  _

There was no way he could be productive at work like this. 

_ Wait. _

Dread shot down his spine as he realised how possibly fucked he was. After getting to his feet with the protest of his churning stomach, he pulled out his phone. With shaking hands, he checked the time. Unsurprisingly, the feeling in his gut got worse. 

“Holy fuck.” Tadashi ran a hand through his hair. “Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy  _ fuck _ !”

He sped-walked out of the kitchen, looking around wildly before locking eyes on the door. There was no time to say goodbye, forget even  _ looking  _ for Akiteru. It was one-in-the-fucking-afternoon! After some effort of figuring out how to unlock the door, he left and spent way too long trying to figure out how to get out of the building. This was bad. This was  _ really  _ bad. He couldn’t remember anything from last night- except for the part where the whiskey lost its flavour. That would explain his current  _ fucking predicament.  _

Once reaching the street, he had to wildly look around to gauge where the hell he was. It wouldn’t have been that far from the bar they went to, right? Oh, this was  _ bad.  _ After checking the map app he had on his phone, he was a bit horrified to realise they had walked way further than he could expect for two drunk men. The fastest way to get to his workplace would be by train. 

_ No. Wait.  _

Tadashi didn’t have this uniform. Fucking  _ hell _ \- he would have to go home first. Shimida was going to kick his ass. And if he didn’t, he’d kick his  _ own  _ ass. This was ridiculous. Ridiculous and so completely irresponsible of him. At least he still possessed his wallet. He had his wallet and his train card. Now he just needed an excuse. 

_ I was out drinking.  _ It was the truth, but Shimida would hardly believe that. He hadn’t been a heavy drinker in years, even when he went out with Hitoka. And he would never get completely wasted on a work-night.  _ Well…  _

_ There was a family emergency.  _ That was practically a joke. The only family emergency was whether or not he actually called his mother last night. If he was lucky, he imagined it. If not? Well, he had just moved from “shunned” to “shunned and also embarrassment to the family”.

_ I forgot I was no longer suspended. Ha!  _ That one was funny.

On the train ride home, he went through at least four hundred different conversations to have with Shimida. Whenever the train met a bump on the rail, his stomach lurched.  _ Jesus.  _ If things were going to go as he imagined, he could probably just call a late sick day. That actually sounded appealing at this point. 

_ Sick day. Sick day. Sick day.  _ With every step out of the train station, he was more and more certain that he was about to be sick. Being alive right now felt wrong.  _ God.  _ He needed a sick day. 

Sticking his key into the door, Tadashi didn’t suppress a yawn. His head was fogged up from the migraine. Whether or not he was just tired or hungover didn’t matter. He needed to go back to bed. As he slipped off his shoes, he paused. 

There was an extra pair of shoes next to his door. 

With caution, Tadashi treaded into the living room. Kageyama was nowhere to be seen, but at the sound of his arrival both Daichi and Hitoka turned around. She waved her hands at him as some sort of warning. 

“Yamaguchi,” Daichi said with furrowed brows, “where were you?” His voice is eerily calm. 

“I’m sorry. I called him,” she blurted out, starting to turn red. “Shimida called the house wondering where you were and you weren’t picking up your cell and I got scared and-”   
“Who’s the guy?” He cuts her off, nodding towards the hallway. 

_Fuck._ Tadashi moves to the side, making better eye contact with Hitoka. “Where’s Kageyama?”   
“S-sick. In the bathroom.” 

“Kageyama, huh?” Daichi switches his weight onto his cane. “What’s wrong with him?” The tone he holds is bad. He knows this for a fact. It’s a faux kind of nice, the one he uses when he’s either really upset or… well, it was the tone he used when he told Tadashi to stay away from him five years ago.

He pauses, noticing how his nausea has disappeared. The iron wall starts to come up, paralleling Daichi’s fake-calm with his own. “Can we talk privately?” 

Tadashi doesn’t care to wait for his answer, walking with hands in his pockets to his bedroom. The other man follows suit. Daichi shuts the door for him, watching his every move more than carefully. His own eyes stay up towards the ceiling, following the stains from indoor smoking as he slowly turned in a semi-circle. 

“Where were you? Why do I have to be getting panicked calls from your own friends because you’re missing?”   
He bites the inside of his cheek before responding. “I was out late. Woke up in a different neighbourhood.” 

Daichi frowns. “Out drinking? Was this some guy’s apartment? Jesus, Yamaguchi. Did you spend the night at some guy’s house?”   
The surplus of questions makes his head hurt. “Calm down. What I did wasn’t any of your business.”   
“It is when I have to get involved like this.” He sits down on the corner of his bed. Tadashi knows he gets tired from standing sometimes. “Did you spend the night at some guy’s house?” He repeats his earlier question. 

“Why do you care?” He snapped at him. “I didn’t do anything.” 

“Because if you’re out drinking then a guy could hurt you.”   
Tadashi feels exasperated, throwing his hands in the air. “You don’t have to parent me. I never said I was out drinking and I’m not a _child._ I know how to take care of myself.”   
“Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “‘Cuz I can smell the whiskey from here.”   
They have a staring contest, glare coming across his own face. Daichi speaks up again. 

“Now who is that guy and what the hell is wrong with him. Don’t lie to me.”   
The inside of his cheek stings from chewing on it; he wouldn’t be surprised if blood filled his mouth soon. “A friend. I’m helping him get clean. You know what that does to a person.” 

Daichi uses his free hand to rub his temples. “So, what- you’re hiding junkies in your house now?” 

It stuns him for a moment, the statement does. “Are you kidding me? Why would you say that? He’s not a junkie. Did you miss the part where I said he was getting clean?”   
“How can you help him get clean if you aren’t even clean yourself?” 

_Ouch._ That one hurt. Tadashi’s hands flex by his side. “You know I’m clean. I haven’t used in _years._ You _know_ that.”   
Daichi stands up. “Are you kidding? You really go to group every week and tell people you aren’t an addict anymore and then what- you go outside and smoke up?” 

“ _What_?” His blood boils. “I’m not addicted to smoking. You know that.”   
No matter how many times he says it, it feels less and less like he actually does. 

“You smoke to be happy. It’s the same thing.” 

“At least I try to be happy at all!” His voice evolves into a shout, taking a step closer towards him. “You fucking gave up! You _gave up_!”   
His words almost echo in the closed space as Daichi takes it, expression staying mute. He walks closer to the door, pausing close to Tadashi’s face. “Don’t you ever, _ever_ , tell me I gave up.” His words are coated in ice, dripping with resentment.   
Tadashi takes a step back. “Fuck you.” He feels like he isn’t breathing. 

Daichi gives no response, only staring him down before leaving with a slam of his bedroom door. 

_Fuck you._ _  
__Fuck you._

 _Fuck! You!_ _  
_ His heartbeat is in his throat, Daichi’s words repeating over and over again in his head.

_ Junkie. _

_ Junkie. _

_ You aren’t even clean.  _

Tadashi’s eyes feel hot as he holds back the forming tears with all of his will. He has not cried in years. He has not cried in years. He won’t do this now. 

_ Addict. He called me an addict.  _

_Tadashi, Jesus Christ. You’re fucking using?_ _  
__I’m not an addict._

_ I’m just a fucking person.  _

_ I’m just a  _ fucking  _ person.  _

He can’t stop himself anymore. It happens before he can hold back. Hand forming into a fist, Tadashi turns around and punches the wall. Shock processes in his head faster than the pain. With his other shaking hand, he pulls out his arm from the fist-deep hole he’s created in the wall. His hand is turning red and the skin has cut in a few places from the jagged dry-wall. Wide-eyed, he stares in horror at the damage when the throbbing pain sets in. The iron wall shatters like glass as tears fall down his cheeks, starting slow and building up into a teeth-clenching sob. 

Tadashi doesn’t go to support group that week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you go completely off your outline for half of a fanfic and then panic and write a ridiculously long chapter to catch up on what's supposed to happen or are you normal  
> anyway sorry this took a while. i wasn't busy but like literally holy shit this chapter was long and i ended up scrapping a fourth of it because it was too many flashbacks in too little time and i hated it. now there's kind of missing information but it's okay!! things are okay!! i'll fix it lmao (oh god this fic is a flaming garbage fire) 
> 
> thank you so much for the comments and kudos, and thank you even more for reading. you (yes you) are a babe for that. 
> 
> make sure you're washing your hands, staying home, and staying healthy. be safe, guys. i'll cya next time^^


	9. easier and better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry it's been a month 
> 
> the pacing of this chapter is bizarre, im sorry ahead of time

_“You have: one new message.”_

“ _Yeah, Tadashi, sorry about what happened Tuesday. You weren’t there when I came to and I didn’t hear from you after. Admittedly, I didn’t think we’d get that drunk. Anyway-”_ _  
_Tadashi’s eyes flickered up to Kageyama, moving his game piece. It was too hard explaining how to play chess to him, so they used the chess pieces for a makeshift checkers game.

“ _So just hold that against me, not Kei. See ya!”_ _  
__Shit._ He zoned out at the end of the voicemail. The wording Akiteru had been using in it concerned him, making him worry that something happened that he couldn’t remember. Being fair to himself, he remembered very, _very_ little from that night. 

“Your turn.”   
“Oh, right, sorry.” He smiled at Kageyama, moving a pawn and jumping three of the opposing pieces. A glower radiated off of the other side of the board, Kageyama in some form of distress over how terribly he was losing. 

“So,” he cleared his throat, “are, uh, are you okay?” It was awkward, the way he presented his question. 

Tadashi scrunched up his nose in amusement almost, huffing out a quiet laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”   
He pointed to the heavy bandaging around his hand. 

_Ah. Yeah._

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Should heal up soon.” He waited for Kageyama to move the piece, thinking a few plays ahead of what he could do. It was easier than thinking about his hand. 

Last night, Tadashi punched a wall. Last night, Tadashi fractured his knuckles and ignored the pain for two hours until Hitoka took him to the emergency room insisting that he _wasn’t_ fine. With a swollen, turning purple hand in excruciating pain at that point, he had to start agreeing. The diagnosis was simple: he’d change the bandages every day, be overall gentle, and come back in three weeks. Slight work. 

Maybe it wasn’t the hand he didn’t like thinking about. 

_“Fuck you.”_

It was the first time he had said it to Daichi, actually meaning it. No matter how much he wanted to pretend, however, it wasn’t the first time he had thought it. 

Tadashi sighed to himself, just going back to playing checkers. He was fine with spending his Wednesday like this. Normally, he’d skip work for the morning and go to group, but there was no way in hell he was going there today. He had an excuse to not show up to work as well, so he might as well take advantage. He was glad to stay home with Kageyama, making sure he’d be okay. 

They had yet to tell him, though. Kageyama technically was free to go. Whilst waiting to be seen last night in the emergency room, the two had read up on the news. What she had told him was true; the drug bust had closed. Everyone involved had been sentenced already and the story was filed away in an endless hole of drug-related cases. It was good news, _great news_ , even. For some reason, though, Tadashi found it really difficult to bring up. 

He watched Kageyama thoughtfully look around the board from underneath his bangs. There was no way to pretend he didn’t know why. Tadashi was going to be lonely without him. He’d gotten used to having a house-mate and soon enough he’d return to that seeping silence. It was selfish almost, how part of him argued against telling him in general. That brought up several issues, however. 

First of all, he couldn’t simply just house him forever. Eventually, Kageyama’s landlord might report him as missing and that could cause even _more_ problems. That and Tadashi had to pay his taxes and grocery bill now for two people, as well as dealing with more water consumptions appearing on his bills. Energy probably wasn’t as big of an issue, seeing as Kageyama was so determined on unplugging each and every lamp or appliance not in use, as well as making sure lights are off unless necessary. 

Back to the whole missing persons issue, Kageyama had no means of identification on him. No wallet, no I.D., no driver’s license, nothing. In the scenario that Tadashi got into trouble, there would be nothing he could really do to explain to the police without bringing up the drug case. 

So no. Tadashi couldn’t keep him here forever. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t miss the constant company, though. 

“What was the voicemail about?” He asked, looking up with a rather blank expression. “It mentioned Tsukishima, right?”   
He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, um, it was his brother. That’s who, uh, I was with that night.”   
Kageyama hummed in response, jumping over one of his pieces and taking it off the board. “You didn’t do anything with him, did you?”   
_Huh?_ _  
_“Excuse me?”  
They had a little staring contest before he shrugged. “I dunno. He apologised for something and I wasn’t sure what else that could mean.”   
Tadashi pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a second to exhale. “No, we didn’t do anything. I’m not that big of an asshole.”   
“Oh.”   
He jumped the last two pieces Kageyama had on the board, then got up from the floor. “I win. Do you want something to drink?” 

“I’m okay.” 

It’s been trickier with him. Loss of appetite, disinterest in staying hydrated, it really did concern him. Nonetheless, Tadashi walked into the kitchen and opened his weed cabinet out of habit. Aggravation seeped across his face. It wasn’t within his intentions to quit smoking. That was surrendering to Daichi’s word. He hadn’t had time or money to see Kita or any of his side dealers. Yes, his back ached more now. Yes, he missed having something to do with his hands. Even with all of that pent up annoyance, he gently shut the door and moved to open the fridge. 

At least what he lacked in weed, he made up for in booze.

After cracking open the bottle, he returned to the living room to see Kageyama leaning against the couch, eyes closed. 

“You alright?” 

He didn’t open his eyes. “Mm, just tired.”   
Hitoka had said things would get worse before they got better, but Tadashi couldn’t help but still feel as if he was doing this all wrong. Instead of bothering him, he slid open the door to his backyard and moved to sit in his smoking chair. 

_Or just, “chair” now._ With a sigh, he tipped the bottle upwards and let the cold beer pour into his mouth. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was stoked for September. Too much had happened this past month or so, he was ready for summer to end. Change had always been inevitable, but now he was welcoming it with open arms. 

To his surprise, the door slid open behind him. A tired-looking Kageyama emerged from the house, this time without his blanket. He took the seat next to Tadashi and stared off into the bland yard. 

Without prompting, he spoke. “Decided I missed the sun.”   
There was a smile behind his bottle. Even if things got worse, he had some confidence they were getting better. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

He took another sip. “Go for it.”   
“Do you think things actually get better?”   
A frown appears on his face as he turns to look at him. “What?” 

Kageyama shrugged, still staring off into the distance. “Everyone always talks about things getting better, but I can’t tell if they really do. Like, are things ever gonna get better for Tsukishima? Are they gonna get better for _me_?” 

“I mean, you can’t stay at rock bottom forever.” He swallows another mouthful of beer. “Things get easier for everyone.”   
“Easier isn’t better.”   
Tadashi knits his eyebrows together, unable to think of any sort of response. He has a point, really. 

Then Kageyama turns back to him, maintaining an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. “Have things gotten better for you?” 

The question haunts him for the rest of the day. 

In the late afternoon, he goes to the hospital when Hitoka comes to stay with Kageyama after a quick morning shift. He’s thankful, really, anxious to go to the hospital and not be in that house. Not be in that house with that hole in the wall. 

_Jesus. I don’t even know how to fix that._

The thought of his home worth going down kind of terrifies him. First the painted tiles, then the effects from smoking inside, now the hole? Jesus, Daichi was right. He was going to have a seriously difficult time trying to sell it. Well, that is _if_ he was going to sell it. 

_I can’t see you staying here much longer._

_Shit._

He decides against calling ahead to see if visiting would be fine today. Not only does Tadashi feel dread at the idea of calling Akiteru at the moment, he also just lacks any sort of care. He doesn’t care if Tsukishima doesn’t want to see him. He doesn’t care if his whole family is in the room. He doesn’t care if this whole thing is a waste of time, because _everything_ is a waste of time and he just wants to sit down with someone who gets it. 

The only issue with this, however, is that he can’t remember which curtained off area belonged to Tsukishima. Luckily enough, or unluckily enough, Akiteru walks out of the makeshift room and bumps straight into him. 

“Sorry.” He pauses, doing the slightest double take. “Oh, Tadashi?” 

Tadashi forces a smile. “Hi, sorry. I was just gonna, uh.” He motions towards the curtains. 

“Yeah.”   
“Yeah.”   
_This is painful._

_You don’t even know what happened, stop making it awkward._

_It isn’t my fault._

“Sorry- again.” Akiteru rubs the back of his head. “I just didn’t want you to regret it, y’know?”   
That’s both concerning and not. “What? Akiteru, I-”   
An older woman comes out of the curtains next, a little surprised at the two of them. She’s blonde and wears glasses, heavily resembling Tsukishima. 

Akiteru is quick to regain a smile and gesture towards him. “Oh, ha, Mom. This is a friend of Kei’s.” 

He immediately expects her to look him up and down, give him a cold greeting, and later tell Akiteru that he should never be allowed to visit again. None of that happens. Rather, she smiles warmly and pulls him into a quick hug. The feeling shouldn’t strike a pang in his heart, but it does.

He misses his mom. 

“Any friend of Kei’s is a friend of the family.” After letting go, she gives his hand a quick squeeze. “Don’t be afraid to stop by to see him at any time.” Tsukishima’s mother turns to her son. “I’ll be back in the evening, alright? We can have dinner here again.”   
Akiteru nods and the two wait for her to leave, himself getting ready to do the same. “You can go on right ahead, if you want.”   
“Wait.”   
He does. 

Tadashi’s eyes fall to the floor. “So that night, we didn’t uh… we didn’t-”   
“Oh my god.” Akiteru stops him. His eyes flicker back up. “Oh my god, no. You kept talking about calling your mom and when you tried to I slapped you.” 

_Oh._

_Oh, I guess that makes sense._

“Are things okay for you at home?” He gently presses on, acting like Tadashi’s the one who’s a volcano. 

_Shit._

_Maybe I am the volcano._

_No._

_No, we keep it together._

_Keep it together for everyone._

“Tadashi?”   
_If you explode it fucks everyone else up around you._

_It’s selfish._

_You’re SELFISH._

“Hey.” Akiteru reaches out and grabs his shoulder, pulling him back to life. “Are you okay?”   
He smiles. “Yeah, just peachy.” 

And with that, he goes in through the curtain. 

It didn’t take a genius to see Tsukishima staring at his bandaged hand. Tadashi ran his nail over the bed sheet, ignoring it for as long as allowed. 

“So, what happened to-”   
_There it was._

“-your hand?”   
The briefest of laughs escaped his lips before sitting up straight. “I punched a wall and fractured my knuckles.” 

Tsukishima raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? I wouldn’t take you to be a wall-punching guy.”   
“Yeah, well me neither.” 

Today was quieter than last time. He felt kind of guilty about it. About the silence, about never being honest with each other. Coming here wasn’t a waste of time, but not making an effort was. 

“It was, uh,” he spoke up again, “an old friend of mine. Said some messed up shit and I dunno. Kinda exploded.” 

Tadashi watched him nod understandingly. “Just builds up, huh?” 

“Yeah.”   
“I get that.” 

“Maybe we’re both fucked then, hm?” 

Tsukishima laughs, making the tension in the air lessen a small bit. “You could say that.” He picks at his fingers atop the bedsheet. “I get out this week, by the way.” 

“Of the hospital?” Tadashi follows the movement of his hands with his eyes, trying to mentally will him to stop messing with the ripped cuticle. It’s one of his own bad habits. 

“Yeah. Then it’s back to the rat race.” The picking intensifies. “If I can even _get_ back.” His voice is quiet that time as he rips upwards at the skin. 

“Hey.” He places one of his own hands on Tsukishima’s, gently pulling it away. “You’ll be okay.” The movement of his thumb swiping slowly against the back of his hand is soft and reposeful. He thinks for a moment, letting it be quiet in those peaceful few seconds. “Tell you what, once you’re home and settled, give me a call. I’ll take you out. Consider it a welcome back; to the rat race and all.”   
It makes himself feel a little better watching Tsukishima lose a battle with himself and let the small smile grace his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds good.”   
Even at his worst, he still managed to look pretty. 

_Hitoka’s bed had been the epicentre of all too many breakdowns. With no other place to stay, her apartment had housed him this past week. No job, no house, no family, no nothing. Tadashi could feel the mental wear this had on her too. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve a snivelling, fucked up mess. Coming home from work to either deal with a meltdown or an empty shell of a person. She didn’t deserve this, and she didn’t deserve the itch of his hands to grab anything valuable for any single drop to ease the pain._

_As much as he hated the two nights he spent on the street, it was better than giving her more to put up with. It was selfish of him to stay with her. It was selfish of him to think he deserved better._

_“Tadashi?”_

_It was early morning when he was woken up by the sound of his own name. After a day of walking from one side of the city to another, he’d spent the night on another bench. It was closer to home- or rather, his parents’ home._

_To his surprise, his uncle stood in front of him with raised brows. With a half-awake squint, Tadashi moved to sit up on the bench and stare back at him._

_“Are you alright?” Shimada asked, pausing to look around before taking a few steps closer._

_That was enough to trigger the next break._

Kageyama twirled Hitoka as they both poorly danced to the music that played from Tadashi’s laptop. He smiled into the glass of wine in his hands. It was a celebratory evening, tonight was. 

_Here’s to freedom!_

It had been relieving to tell him, relieving to pop open his bottles of cheap wine. Relieving to feel a bit of fun for the first time in a while. This was to that sweet relief. Music from Tsukishima’s playlist remained as the soundtrack to their hardly-party, without the others even knowing. 

So here he sat, head foggy from the past three glasses leaning against the headrest of his armchair, watching them dance. He was happy, maybe. Whether or not that was true remained unclear to him at the moment, but the feeling was still there. Life could go back to normal. Things were getting better, just as they were talking about hours earlier. All that he needed to do to complete things was get so stoned he couldn’t walk and sell his soul to working on cars. 

Then there was the occasional reminder of how embarrassing being around Daichi was. And of course, he couldn’t forget going home with men from bars that he’d never talk to again. Or if he was lucky, he’d get hooked on one person for a month and move on like he always did. 

_So why was he still playing Tsukishima’s playlist?_

_God._ He needed to get up. Stand. Anything but sit there in that armchair and feel sorry for himself. 

The rest of the wine went down a bit easy, even if he hated how dry felt in his mouth. With that loose feeling in his wrist, he placed the glass on his coffee table a little too hard. He can almost feel the music pumping through his veins like blood as he moves his body to match the dancing. Raised arms moving over his head, Tadashi closes his eyes and just allows the rhythm to be his puppet-master. He can understand, really, why Tsukishima would want to work his music so much. It’s the one thing that can create life, next to carbon. 

Only with the opening of his eyes can he really understand the concept of easier versus better. It was easier to just let Kageyama stay on xanax. It was easier to keep the news to themselves and continue to let him stay here. It was so much easier to let him stay at Kita’s house and rot away. But seeing how much more _alive_ he was, seeing the roundness back in his cheeks and the smile that couldn’t go away because he was free and he was able to go back to really living. 

That was better. 

Tadashi loved the unused railroad. The bridge had been his smoking hole for years and it was rare that he brought people there. He hardly even brought Hitoka with him there because it felt more personal to keep it to himself. 

And somehow, this was his second time taking Tsukishima there. 

_He loves to defy the normal, huh?_

The two sat underneath the bridge, backs against the cool concrete. This time, there was no joint between them. Matching glass bottles of grape soda collected condensation near the bottom, untouched for the most part until Tsukishima picked his up, studying it in front of his face. 

“I haven’t had a soda in, like, maybe a month.” He takes a sip, leaning his head back against the wall. “You’d expect to like things like that better after not having it for so long, but you never do.” 

He huffed a laugh under his breath. “Do I have the same effect?” It felt good to settle back into his rhythm. Playing his game of saying things until Tsukishima’s face turned red. 

The game started. Tadashi watched the careful upturn of his lips with satisfaction. 

“I’d hope not. Then I’d totally be wasting my Saturday to sit under a bridge with you.” 

“Oh?” He reached his unhurt hand over to comically smack down onto Tsukishima’s thigh. “You wanna tell me I’m wasting your Saturday?” 

They both playfully narrowed their eyes at each other. “I merely implied it.” 

His hand creeped upward. “Mhm. What should I do then? So I’m not wasting your precious Saturday.”   
“Talk to me.” Tsukishima ended the game, pulling his hand off with a roll of the eyes. “I’d… I’d want to actually get to know you.” 

In the briefest moment of surprise, Tadashi stared at him. He wasn’t embarrassed, but the possibility of feeling so was definitely there. 

Tsukishima noticed this, widening his eyes for a moment. “Not that- uh, not that I didn’t like where that was going. I just think, um-”   
“You want connection.” He interrupted, finishing the sentence the way he personally would. 

His smile returned. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.” His own hand skimmed over where Tadashi’s had been. “Did you stop smoking?” 

“Sort of.” He shrugged, unsure of where to even begin. “The last time I went to my dealer I, uh, left without weed. There was an um,” he waved his bandaged hand around in the air, “ordeal, of sorts?” 

Tsukishima’s brows furrowed at this. 

_Yeah, man. I don’t know either._

_Do we tell him?_

_I mean, it is_ his _friend._

“Ordeal?” 

Tadashi sighed, rubbing his temples for a moment. “It’s kind of a long story.” 

“We have time, if you want to tell me.”   
And that he did. 

It took maybe forty minutes to fully catch him up to speed and explain the scenario with the occasional question here and there. Tsukishima listened as he talked, becoming harder and harder to read as the story went on. As soon as he finished, that echo from being under a bridge went away and suddenly Tadashi was overly aware of the quiet. 

“So,” he said, resting his chin atop folded hands, “Kageyama is with you, but nobody else is.” 

He nodded. 

“And you’ve gotten him off the xanax? Cold turkey?”   
He nodded again. 

Tsukishima closed his eyes for a moment. “Jesus. He could’ve died and no one would know.”   
Despite the numerous times Kageyama talked about dying, the seriousness of his words never really settled. He had a point with that. If he _had_ died, then everything about him being within his secret custody would have been leaked. Tadashi could’ve gotten screwed over for- 

_No. You’re being selfish again._

_You aren’t the main character. You aren’t the only one with issues._

_It’s not always about you._

A hand touched his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. 

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s fine now, it’s all okay.” The feeling of his thumb gently stroking up and down on the edge of his collarbone was relaxing; it alleviated the volcano. “I can’t believe you could take on Kageyama for a month, not to mention take him on during withdrawals.”   
He exhaled out of his nose, a slight laugh. Leaning into the touch, Tadashi allowed the hand to move to the other shoulder, arm against his neck. It was a good feeling to be touched. 

“Kageyama’s not that bad. Persistent about electricity usage, but not that bad.” He shrugged. “Taking care of him through this has had its ups and downs, but once you go through it yourself it’s easier to help others.” 

His thumb paused. “You went through what?”   
“Withdrawals.” It took everything in him to just say it as any other statement. “I had them when I was first addicted to my pain meds and I couldn’t stay clean, so I got hooked on morphine for a period.” 

“Jesus.” His voice was quiet. “After your back, right?”   
“Yeah. My, uh, my mom disowned me after she found out.” 

Tsukishima pulled away, and for a moment, Tadashi thought he had messed things up by admitting so. “Are you serious?”   
Swallowing was a bit difficult. “Yeah, my uncle took me in, got me a job, and helped me move into the house he had been selling but I had to promise him to get clean. So, uh, I went through withdrawals again for about half a month.” 

Instead of the look of disgust he had begun to expect, Tsukishima’s expressions softened. “Jesus, dude. I’m sorry.”   
“It’s okay.” The pressure in his lungs deflated. “I’d rather deal with withdrawals than still be addicted, I guess.”   
He hummed a quiet response, looking at the ground. “I’ve overdosed once before, back in university.” Tsukishima’s hand’s pick at weeds in between the cracks of the concrete. “The entire time I was back in the hospital this month, I just kept asking myself how I had gotten there again. How I had spiralled enough again to reach that same low point.”   
Tadashi watched him pull at the weeds, listening as he spoke. 

“And then I get these moments where I get it. Because even after all of that _bullshit-_ ” one of the small plants rips up in his grasp, “I still miss it. I still look around at life and think it isn’t as worth it when I’m sober. I still can’t see how things can be better.”   
_Better._

He reaches out, gently holding his wrist. Tsukishima looks up at him and he really can see the wear that’s happened on his face over the past month. He looks tired, and Tadashi gets it. 

“It gets easier.”   
He’s tired too. 

In the evening, Tadashi’s surprised to find Kageyama sitting on the doorstep of his house. His knee bounces up and down on the step below at a scarily fast pace, only stopping when he notices him walking up. Standing up, he walks up and immediately bows. 

“Yamaguchi, I need to borrow your phone and meet somebody!”   
He’s a little shocked for a moment, eyebrows raised and unsure of what to do. “Uh, my phone? Who are you meeting?”   
_A dealer._

The second the thought crosses his mind, Tadashi wants to bitch slap himself. He was getting clean, he wouldn’t ruin that now. He didn’t need to harbour any distrust towards him, and yet…

“Please, it’s important.” Kageyama stood up, voice breaking. “Please, I just need one favour before I leave.”   
Tadashi could trust Kageyama. Tadashi could trust Kageyama and believe that this was truly something important that had nothing to do with drug-related business. He could trust him, he _could._ That didn’t stop the pit in his gut saying otherwise, however. 

“If it’s that important, take me with you.” He knew he needed to trust him, but the pros outweighed the cons. “We can go now, I’m just not sure that-”   
“Okay, okay. That’s fine. We just need to _go._ ” Kageyama interrupted him, grabbing his arm and starting to jog down the pavement. 

The rush made the pit in his stomach deeper, but there wasn’t really any turning back now. 

There _especially_ was no turning back when Kageyama seemed fine with the idea of running all the way to some apartment. His body, weakened from the past weeks of withdrawing protested heavily. After ten minutes, he was leaning against the side of a building with Tadashi’s hand on his back, heaving for air. 

“Yamaguchi, can, uh,” Kageyama panted, “can I please use your, uh, phone?” 

With furrowed brows, he handed him his cell. Over the shoulder, he watched him text an unknown number something about getting there as fast as they could. The rush of everything stressed him out even more than the probability of this being about drugs, really. The way that he was willing to keep running and pushing past other people on the street. The way that Kageyama was willing to push past his physical ability to just keep _running._

Tadashi didn’t get it.

He still didn’t get it when they arrived in a neighbourhood, seconds away from collapsing after how far they had gone. Kageyama typed like a fiend on the phone, right outside of one of the apartments. It was intimidating, this neighbourhood. It was in a richer area than Tadashi himself had been in. The pit developed again, untrusting of his surroundings. 

“Kageyama, I don’t-”  
The door in front of them opened, a man with dyed blond hair standing there. He looked a little thunderstruck at the two of them, immediately pointing to his hair. At that point, Tadashi lost complete understanding of what happened. 

The two began moving their hands at each other very quickly, Kageyama only barely mumbling to himself if anyone. By the time he realised it was sign language, he himself felt a little surprised. The fluidity of Kageyama’s own movement in signing was something completely unexpected to him, watching in almost amazement at their ability to communicate. 

_Don’t stare._

_It’s rude._

Before he knew what was going on, Kageyama grabbed his hand and led him upstairs after the man. He seemed too preoccupied to explain what was going on, completely leaving him in the dark. Tadashi was dragged into an apartment, watching them sign again in a haze before someone came practically sprinting out at them, attaching himself to Kageyama in a jumping hug. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god, I couldn’t find you anywhere and I thought I was never going to see you again and you weren’t at the trials and-” 

The man continued to go on, speaking at the speed of light. It took a second, but then Tadashi placed him and everything sort of made sense. This was the guy from that video they had been watching. This was the guy Kageyama said was his best friend, the one he was scared of ratting him out. 

After the hug, he took a step back and stared at Kageyama. “Oh my god, you’re _blond!”_

“I… yeah.” 

For somebody who was so eager to get here, Kageyama had suddenly gone quiet. He stayed more in awe, staring at the other man as he continued to talk. Occasionally, he’d talk and sign at the same time, facing the other man that Tadashi could now assume was deaf. 

“I’m transferred to Fuchu tomorrow but this is the last night I have to see people.” He stepped forward, kicking a foot up towards his knee but not touching it. A frown appeared on his face now. “I really thought I wasn’t gonna see you again, Bakayama.”   
Kageyama swallowed. “How long?”   
“Five years.”   
“Jesus Christ.”   
“I know.”

Things go silent for a moment, and Tadashi’s almost afraid that Kageyama is going to start crying. The look on his face shows a struggle to appear calm. It’s uncomfortable to be in the room. It’s uncomfortable to be there and be forced to eavesdrop on such an obviously private conversation. 

“Who’s he?” The man nods towards him, finally acknowledging him. 

“He’s, uh, he’s taken me in for the time being.” Kageyama hands ball into fists, voice rigid. “A friend of Tsukishima’s.”   
He turns to him now, squinting at him suspiciously before widening his eyes. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “I remember you! You were the one I saw him talking to at RedBast!” 

Tadashi frowns slightly. “What?”   
“Yeah, I saw you talking to Tsukishima!” He reached over to Kageyama, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t you remember me pointing him out to you? He was the one with the heeled boots!” 

The instant reminder that he existed in other people’s memories made him want to puke. Tadashi loved those boots, but it was unideal for that to be his memorable factor. Seeing Kageyama’s eyes widen as well was a nightmare too. 

“Oh my god,” he said. “That _was_ you.”   
“I’m Hinata,” he stuck out a hand. “I went to university with Kageyama and Tsukishima.” 

“Yamaguchi,” he responded weakly as they shook hands, unable to process the idea of both of them seeing him in that particular outfit. “Nice to meet you.”   
Hinata sighed, “Not for long.” He looked up at Kageyama, grabbing his wrists. “I already have a form for you to be a visitor, it’s with Atsumu. You guys will just need to figure out the details and send it in, okay? Make sure you’re staying safe, _please._ I need you to stay in the real world, ‘Yama.” 

“You guys didn’t give them my name?” 

He scrunched up his face into a scowl. “I wouldn’t throw you under the bus like that, idiot. Tanaka, Noya, Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita might have, but the bust is over. Just…” The scowl softened. “Just live for the rest of us, yeah? You’ve gotta live for me.” 

“Right.”   
“Right.”   
Atsumu, or who he assumes to be, signs something towards Hinata. He nods and lets go of Kageyama’s wrists. “I have to be up early. To go, I mean. You guys should probably head home.” 

He nods, motioning to Tadashi towards the door. “Yeah. Yeah, um, sure.” 

As he steps back out into the hallway, waiting for Kagyeama, a voice stops them. 

“Kageyama, wait.” 

With mild surprise, he turned back around, met with another hug. He seems stunned for half a second before hugging back, resting his head down onto Hinata’s bright and wild hair to the point where Tadashi couldn’t even see his face. They have an inaudible conversation, one with muffled voices that were eavesdropping-proof. It lasts for a solid couple minutes before Hinata lets go. His eyes are red, threatening to tear up. 

“Thanks for keeping him in line, Yamaguchi.” His smile is sad as he waves goodbye to them. 

With a weak nod back, he waves back and the two move to leave the apartment building. As soon as they begin the trek back home, Tadashi expects Kageyama to cry. Maybe not the mountain-shaking sob that he had heard the first night, but at least a substantial amount of crying that would suit the kind of goodbye they just had. 

Not a single tear leaves his eyes. 

When they’re home, Kageyama sits on the couch by himself in the dark. Still, no sign of crying. It’s awkward for him, he isn’t sure what to say or do. Any possibility to help could just be a trigger into something worse. 

In the area between the kitchen and living room, he calls out to him. “Do you, uh, do you want a drink or anything?”   
“That would make things easier,” he says, “but not better.” 

This game is tiring. He’s tired of deciding whether it’s a mirrored image or a juxtaposition. He’s tired of keeping himself together for the sake of everyone else. He’s tired of missing the easier and hating the better.

Before he can think anymore on the subject, Kageyama sighs and puts his head in his hands. “Yeah, I would like a drink.”   
It’s enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay yes i would first of all like to say im so sorry for how long this took. i just moved this month and i have a new job and ahh !! my life is busy busy and writer's block is a huge asshole  
> so since the next chapter is the last i wanna say ty for sticking with me and my horrible writing schedule. it means a lot. im gonna write a short fic in this universe that centres around akaashi bc i miss the band and there's a lot to unpack there in that scenario  
> anyway once again im sososososo sorry this took forever. thank you for the lovely comments and kudos, you guys are all babes and i adore you for it. 
> 
> make sure to wash your hands, stay home, and stay healthy. be safe, homies. i'll cya next time^^


	10. letting go // finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey  
> thank you 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0zpstfuuzVvDnQWKCJWKuG?si=9dKv5dNwQ8Cw8NmH4Ru3Ww
> 
> anyway

On the first of August, Tadashi quit his job. 

“Wait,” Shimada scanned over his letter of resignation with wide eyes, “you’re serious about this?”   
He leaned against the wall of the break room, arms crossed. “I need to move on. I’m not gonna stay here and get called ‘Sewers’ for the rest of my life.” 

The idea hadn’t been spur of the moment, but the action was. Last night, once he had sobered himself up in the very late hours of the day, he just imagined writing it. It was just a funny little, “ _ Hey, wouldn’t it be hilarious if I quit my job?”.  _ Then one thing led to another, and he had created an entire pros and cons list on a piece of paper. With an overwhelming amount of pros, he pulled up his laptop and typed away. Soon enough he could sit back in his chair and really wonder if this was what he wanted. 

His internal debate continued up until that very morning. Walking to the shop ready for work nonetheless, resignation in hand.  _ Was  _ this what he wanted? There was no denying that he had imagined quitting his job for years. He had always pictured a dramatic quitting scene with arguments and crying, then flash forward to him being able to play volleyball again professionally this time. And yet, here he was. A polite and formal resignation letter and no plans for the future. 

It was so mundane that he was almost terrified. 

“I’ll finish my two weeks and then go,” he said, trying his best to appear confident. “If that’s, uh, if that’s fine.” 

Shimada sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Yeah, yeah. That’s fine.” He went quiet for a second, looking over at him with a doleful expression. “I’m sorry the work environment didn’t treat you well.” 

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. 

“Do you, uh,” he sat the paper down on the coffee table, “do you know what you’re heading for next?” 

Tadashi fiddled with his fingers. “Not yet, but I’ll figure it out.” 

His uncle took a few steps towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you will. If you need help again, I’m always here, kid.” He smiled before pulling him into a hug. 

“Thanks, Shimada. For everything, really.” 

He let go, giving him a thumbs up. “Of course. Now get your ass out there and finish your two weeks, yeah?”   
The smile stayed on his face, even as he walked past Abe.   
“Hey, Sewers. What’s got you all happy?” 

He was in a good mood, really. This wasn’t going to change that. His walk came to a slow, pausing for him to turn around and face him. 

“Honestly, man,” he half shrugged towards him, “I genuinely pity you and anyone that entertains your lack of a personality.”   
With that, he kept moving towards his corner of the garage. It was August, after all. The seasons were changing, and so would he. Maybe it was easier to stay at the shop and deal with homophobic co-workers, but that didn’t matter. 

Change was better.

“It’s not much, I know.” Kageyama flicked on the lights on his very small apartment, moving out of the way for Tadashi to walk in. “All I can afford, though.” 

His first thought was how square it was. The second was that he felt like this matched Kageyama in a way; boxed in and alone. Other than that it was fairly normal, just a bit small and absolutely littered in candles.

“No, it’s perfectly okay.” He smiled at him when stepping in. 

On the kitchen counter sat the expected: his phone, wallet, keys, an envelope, and… a letter. He picked it up, skimming the first few lines in horror before Kageyama snatched it out of his hands. 

“Stop! Don’t- don’t look at that.” Holding it front of him for a moment, he crumpled it up and tossed it into the trash bin. “Just… just don’t look at it.” 

“You’re not, uh,” he bit his lip, “not thinking like that anymore, right?”   
Kageyama scrunched up his nose, closing his eyes and taking a moment to exhale. “No. I was just desperate.”   
“Good.”   
“Yeah.”   
Maybe talking about the suicide note was a less than par way to start moving back in. In an attempt to change the subject, Tadashi took a step towards the fridge and opened it. Sadly, as he expected, it was incredibly bare. Only a bottle of milk and some sad, wilted vegetables sat inside. 

“That’s probably bad, sorry.” Kageyama grabbed the bottle, opening it to smell and prove his point. “If you’re hungry I can call for takeout, or something.” 

He shook his head. “I have a better idea.” 

Tadashi picked up a bag of rice from the grocery store shelf, turning to put it in the shopping cart they had. 

“That’s gonna be too expensive,” Kageyama mused.   
“It’s a good investment.” He looked at the rest of his friend’s bare pickings. “You can’t just live off milk and takeout. You can literally make rice to eat all week, and the shelf-life is, like, forever. Plus, if you need help then I’ve got you.”   
“Yamaguchi. You’re not paying for my groceries!”   
“I can still _help!”_ _  
_ “No, you will _not!_ ”   
They continued to bicker on the subject as they walked down the liquor aisle. Tadashi himself had been looking at the label of an expensive vodka bottle when he saw the flash of familiar red. Turning his head ever so slightly to the right, a feeling of pure dread pooled into a pit in his stomach. He knew that red sweater. Even more so, he knew the woman that wore it. 

“That percentage is kind of low,” Kageyama said, pulling it out of his hands. “You’d think for that kind of price, it’d be, like, rubbing alcohol.”   
Tadashi couldn’t respond. He couldn’t even move. All he could do was watch the woman inspect a bottle of wine. All he could do was stare. 

His own mother, who he had not seen in years, was  _ right there.  _

“Do you like scotch, Yamaguchi? I might buy another bottle.” 

He had no time to look away before she turned to glance at them. It was her name too, after all. They held eye contact for what felt like both eternity and less than, before she tightened her grip on the bottle and exited the aisle. 

“Yamaguchi?” 

Kageyama’s voice brought him back to reality as he turned back towards him. “Hm?” 

“Do you like scotch?”   
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah. Put it in the basket.”   
God knows he would need it. 

Tadashi helped him clean up once they got back to his apartment, grocery bags in hand. The plan was to have a celebratory “Welcome Home!” dinner with Hitoka later that day. He’d been happy for it earlier, but now everything sort of felt like it was in a haze. It was impossible to get the image out of his head. The way she had looked at him, looked  _ into  _ him, the way she was able to convey a single message without moving a muscle on her face.

_ You’re a stranger.  _

He placed a picture frame back onto the shelf he had been dusting. It was kind of cute, really. Everyone looked much younger, everyone at most being twenty. Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, and a handful of other people all smiled towards the camera with peace signs.  _ Well,  _ almost everyone. Both Tsukishima and Kageyama had mostly serious expressions. 

“Are you okay?” Kageyama finally asked, standing straight after sweeping the floor. “You’ve been, I dunno. Quiet.”   
“Yeah, just thinking.” A sad smile spread across his face as he continued to look at the photo. “When was this?” He pointed to the photo. 

The other man made his way over, squinting a little to look at it. Tadashi wondered if he needed glasses. “Oh. That was before our second year in uni, I think. Before Tsukishima totally ditched us for his cooler friends, or whatever.”   
He hummed a response, looking at them with nostalgia for people he had only met this year. “I guess he made his way back, at least.” 

“Made sense to. Fuckers basically killed him.” Kageyama turned back to grab the broom again. The next thing he was was quiet. Mumbled. “But I guess I did too.” 

_ That was weird.  _ Tadashi stared at his back as he finished up sweeping, not sure of what to make of it. He looked at the photo one last time, feeling full sentimental for lives that weren’t even his. 

“Oh my god,” Hitoka giggled, “stop apologising for the apartment. It’s perfectly okay, I _promise._ ”   
They had cheersed out of mix-matched and _very_ informal cups, triggering another embarrassed apology from Kageyama. It was late evening when she had come over, complimenting them on how nice the home-cooked meal was. They sat around his coffee table on the floor to eat, playful banter back and forth. It was nice, genuinely nice. Kageyama had been feeling better this week, finally not being sick at all today. They found it safe to say the worst of the withdrawals were over. Tadashi and Kageyama made an agreement that if things got bad again, he just needed to call him and he’d come to help as soon as he could. 

_ “If you’re working, don’t worry. I’m an adult and can manage myself.”  _

He had yet to tell them about his resignation. Of course, he still had a week left before he was officially unemployed, but with how fast time seemed to fly now, a week would be finished by tomorrow. 

By the end of the night, he was still sort of in denial about the whole thing. Hitoka had to leave half an hour early, not wanting to risk being late for work in the morning. He and Kageyama talked for a bit longer, about everything and nothing at the same time. Just after midnight, his host suggested he left before it got too late. 

So there they were, sitting outside of his apartment staring up at the dark sky. 

“Sucks that you can’t see the stars here.” Tadashi said, not really to Kageyama. “It’s because of all of the light pollution.” 

“Hey, Yamaguchi.” 

He turned to look at him. “What’s up?”   
“I just wanted to say thanks,” Kageyama paused for a second. “For like, everything, I guess.” 

He smiled, watching a helicopter light in the night sky. If he pretended hard enough, he could think of it as a star. “Don’t mention it, dude.” 

“I’m gonna take out a loan.”  
Tadashi turned his head to look at him. “What for?” 

Kageyama rested his head on his arms. “I want to go back to school. Or, I dunno. Beauty school. I’m gonna try to get a beautician degree.”   
“Sick.” He reached over, putting a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do great in whatever you choose to do. We’ll always stand behind you, promise.” Using his shoulder as leverage, Tadashi stood up and got onto the pavement. 

“So, we can stay friends, yeah?” 

“Always.”   
With a peace sign goodbye, Tadashi headed on his way home. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, but the feeling of being alone settled in quickly. Alone but not particularly lonely, because at least now he knew he had people around him. Saying goodbye was sobering in a way, then. It brought him out of that hole he had dug for himself, just waiting to explode. 

Tadashi was done being a volcano. 

“So, I saw my mom, right?” He says, taking a minute to take a sip from his straw. “And we both just, like, froze, like deer in a headlight. And she _leaves!”_ _  
_ He and Tsukishima were walking in the downtown area near various different stores and cafes. It was a nice day out, still warm, but cooling down as summer began to come to an end. 

“Jesus.” Tsukishima shakes his head. “Didn’t your uncle tell you to call her? That sounds like she’s been talking about you with him, or something.”   
“That’s what I was thinking, but she just turned around and left.” He’s trying not to get his hopes up too high. “No matter, though.”   
He doesn’t really notice where they’re going until Tsukishima opens the door for him. That pit of dread comes back and he pauses. 

“Hey, are you okay?”   
Tadashi forgets how to breathe for a moment, staring at the interior of Daichi’s shop. He can’t stand there forever though. “Sorry, just kinda spaced out.”   
They walk in together after that, Tadashi desperately trying to hide behind Tsukishima so he doesn’t have to deal with any side-glances or even worse: _conversation._ A stack of guitar amplifiers becomes particularly interesting to him as exactly that happens. 

“Oh, Tsukishima!” He can hear Daichi say, surprised. “You’ve recovered?”   
It takes him about four seconds to walk to the other end of the store, purposely ignoring them talking. Daichi hadn’t lied about the empty cassette shipments. He looks them over, taking into consideration both pricings and whether he actually needs them or not. As much as he adored his walkman and such, he didn’t _actually_ know how to make mixes of his own. Tadashi loved music, but that didn’t mean he knew anything about it. 

“Aren’t you friends with him?” 

Tsukishima is suddenly by his side, looking at a cassette for an album he’s never heard of and isn’t interested in. 

“He’s the uh,” he thinks for a second, “he’s the reason for this.” Tadashi holds up his fractured hand, showing off the bandages once again. It’s been feeling better, lately, but any heavy objects or fast movement makes him cry out. 

It’s hard to avoid his furrowed brow. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. We should go then, yeah?”   
“If you want to stay I’m fine with that.”   
“No, you're not. C’mon, we’ll go somewhere else.” He gently pulled his arm to follow and suddenly they had left as soon as they had entered, Tadashi completely ignoring Daichi on the way out as Tsukishima waved goodbye. “So, he’s mean enough to make you a dry-wall hater?” 

He laughs. “I mean, I guess.” It’s a little impossible to fully explain, but he can try. “He and I, um, go to a support group. For injured athletes that struggle with various things.” He messed with the straw in his cup, poking it up and down. “He knows about my struggles with addiction in the past and we got in a fight and, I dunno. He said something about it and I kinda blew up.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know you went to a support group.”   
“It’s kinda embarrassing.”   
Tsukishima frowned. “No, it isn’t. Support is support, yeah?” 

“I guess.”   
It’s awkward for a moment. Tadashi knows he’s probably still curious, but doesn’t want to ask out of politeness. He gets it, he probably would be too. 

“Are you going to make things up with him?” He finally asks, side-eyeing him. “You don’t have to end things forever.”   
He sighs. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends since I got back from America and-” Tadashi pauses. 

_ I was completely in love with him.  _

Dropping that might make things weird. What if Tsukishima got upset? He could just decide to leave. It wasn’t like he was  _ still  _ in love with him. There was the occasional feeling here and there, but Tadashi had dropped all of that years ago. 

“And what?” 

“We’ve had a falling out before, but none of it was out of anger.” He shrugged at him, taking a sip from his drink again. “Things are different this time.”   
“You’ll figure it out.” With that, Tsukishima slipped his hand into Tadashi's free one and laced their fingers.

For a brief few seconds, all he could focus on was the touch and how grateful he was for it. “Are you getting your job back at the station?”   
He huffed a laugh. “Definitely not. I’m not even sure what I’m gonna do next. Do you remember the guy that visited me that one time when you were already there?” 

Tadashi nodded. “Yeah. From the band, right?” 

“Mhm. They asked me to go with them. We’ve been friends since uni, I guess, and they asked me to be a producer for them. Go on tour and stuff.” He could feel the tension in his hand. “I turned it down, though. I can’t keep up with them and they can’t wait behind with me. I think I’d go too far the next time. I wouldn’t wake up at all.” 

He gave Tsukishima’s hand a quick squeeze. “Maybe you can still produce music, just not for them.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Speaking of, uh, _them_.” Tsukishima lowered his voice. “What did you do with the, um, _bag_ I gave you.”   
_Bag?_ _  
__Oh._

“It’s still in my house.” He responds in an equally low voice. “I haven’t touched it.”   
“I know how we can get rid of it.”   
“Oh?”   
  


“Would you like to say any last words?” Tadashi held the bowl with both hands, solemnly looking over towards Tsukishima.

With prayer hands, and closed eyes, he exhaled slowly. “Dump it.” 

Solemness turned into a grin. “You better be right about this.” He looked down into the toilet bowl, pouring the shrooms they had just blended up into the water.

The two looked down at the powder before Tsukishima reached for the handle, flushing it. Unceremoniously, it swirled around before disappearing completely. Tadashi reached over, punching him in the shoulder lightly, and then instantly regretting it due to the sharp pain in his knuckles. 

“Fuck!” He whispered to himself, pulling back and grabbing back his hand, then re-straightening his back. “ _Anyway,_ you better hope this doesn’t trace back to me. If I end up in the clink, I’ll give you hell.”   
“Turn me in, we can start a prison riot and then bust out.”   
“Oh, perfect. Then we’ll fake our identities and live a secret life of crime.” He laughs a little. “I’ll be Leroy,” he uses his American accent for that, “and you can be Valentine.” 

Tsukishima laughs too, rolling his eyes. “Right, ‘cuz that’s believable.” 

“It’s  _ so  _ believable.” He shakes his head. “Our backstory is that we used to sell clocks in Prague, but then we joined a travelling band,” he points at him, eyebrows raised, “we  _ quit,  _ and now we’re looking for jobs in Malaysian countryside.” 

“Aww,” he says in a teasing sweet voice, “you want to move to Malaysia with me?” 

“If it comes to it.” Tadashi laughs again, moving back towards the bathroom door. “Now, c’mon. We’ve squandered the past, or whatever. Fancy a drink?” 

“Of course.” 

It was quite familiar, the way they were sitting. Tadashi in his smoking chair, Tsukishima in the one right next to him. He reached over, opening the bottle of beer with a purple bottle opener. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah.” 

There’s a moment of quiet as he opens his own bottle, taking a sip and appreciating the cool liquid. As the afternoon went on, it had gotten hotter. This wasn’t surprising, but he still wanted to complain about it. 

Tsukishima could seemingly read his mind. “I can’t wait for winter,” he mused. “I’m quite sick of the heat.” 

“I like fall,” he responded. “Good things always seem to happen in fall.”   
“The worst things happen in winter, but I’ve still always liked it.” He drinks from the bottle for a moment. 

Tadashi glances over at him. “It’s been a long summer, yeah?”   
“Both infinite and finite at the very same time.” His pinkie sticks up when he holds the bottle. He finds it a bit funny. “But I’m still glad it happened.”   
“Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “I feel like some things could’ve been great without.” 

“There are still good parts. I got to meet you after all.” 

_Oh, fuck off, corny bastard._ It still makes him smile, like Tsukishima is the one playing the game against him. “Lucky you that you’ve got a shit car.”   
“Hey!” He pushed his shoulder. “It’s not that shit. Just had, ah. What was it?”   
They both think for a minute, before saying it at the same time. 

“Transmission failure!” 

It makes them laugh, Tadashi shaking his head with a smile. “Jesus. Seems like forever ago.” 

“Like I said,” he set the bottle down onto the concrete, “both infinite and finite. And in all that mess, we still exist, huh?” 

“Oh, don’t get all philosophical on me.” Swirling the beer around is satisfying. 

_ Satisfying.  _

“Fine.” Tsukishima makes a _tch_ -ing noise. “I’ll just admit that you were my better part of the summer.”   
A thought enters his head, making him laugh again. “Don’t be gay.” 

He looks over at him real fast, sporting a cocked eyebrow. “Oh?” He gets up from the chair, walking over to him. Fingers lightly trailing over part of Tadashi’s shoulder, he takes a seat on the opposite end of the chair, shifting up as me moves in between his legs, propping up on one knee. “I’ll show you gay.” 

“How bold,” he grins, setting down the bottle onto the ground. “How do you plan on doing that?” 

Tsukishima scoots a bit closer. He can see in his eyes that he isn’t quite panicked, but he’s antsy. Not sure what to do next. Even with the second of self doubt he has, he still reaches a hand to Tadashi’s cheek. This time, he himself leans forward and touches their foreheads together. 

“I guess this is kind of gay-”   
Tadashi’s cut off as he kisses him. For a moment, he’s taken by surprise but then instinct takes back over. Tsukishima tastes like dude and cheap beer and he can’t get enough of it. His hand moves past his cheek and into his hair, tugging softly. There’s absolutely no way for him to say he doesn’t like it. He sits up for some leverage, wanting to take charge. It works, unsurprisingly, and he feels another hand move down to his waist. 

_ Touch, touch, touch.  _

_ God,  _ Tadashi is touch starved. 

They break for air for a moment. He gives a breathy laugh, looking down as he pushes his hair back. 

“You’re not half bad at that, yeah?” 

“I’ve had my escapades.” 

“Oh my god,” he rolls his eyes, “first the philosophy and now big words.  _ Someone’s  _ smarter than the rest of us.” 

“I’ll have you know I did particularly well in high school and uni.”   
“Mhm, got any other big words for me?” 

“Carcharodontosaurus.”   
He can’t help the amused look that comes onto his face. “Is that a dinosaur?” 

“You’d be surprised at what childhood facts stick with you.” Tsukishima traces a shape onto his thigh. He thinks it might be a star. 

“God, you fucking nerd.” He pulls him back in again, ready to feel it again. Ready to feel something more than satisfying. With a soft bite of Tsukishima’s lip, he smiled into the kiss and felt his own hands wandering. One stayed up in a modest area as the other travelled downward. 

And with that, Tadashi felt himself grateful that Shimada invested in building a privacy fence in the backyard. 

Before they split off in the evening, Tsukishima struck him up a deal. It was both fair and simple, and any normal person could agree on such. And even so, both of them had the look in their eye that screamed, “this will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.” Tadashi was a man of his word, however, which explained what he was doing on a doorstep all dressed up and holding a bouquet of flowers. 

_“I’ll come out to my family if you talk to your mom.”_ _  
_ It really was so simple. So simple, and yet he was absolutely petrified. Petrified and unable to ring the doorbell. Truthfully, they might just shut the door on him again. They could take one look at the hair, at the scared look on his face, they could look through him and see everything that was wrong and shut the door. 

_ Just do it.  _

_ The worst thing to happen is just nothing.  _

_ Nothing would change.  _

His finger hovered over the button, completely unable to go further. 

_ Things have to change. _

_ THINGS HAVE TO CHANGE.  _

The movement happens on impulse, an impulse that he instantly regrets. He can hear the sound inside, the sound of the doorbell that he just _fucking_ pressed. There are footsteps coming towards the door. Footsteps getting closer. 

_ Leave. You have to leave.  _

_ You have to give it a shot.  _

_ No. Leave now, while you still can.  _

_ If you want things to change then stay.  _

_ Stay.  _

The door starts to creak open. His heart rate spikes to an astronomical level. 

_ You saw how she looked at us. She doesn’t want us back.  _

_ Fuck. She doesn’t want me back.  _

_ I have to leave.  _

_Now!_ _  
_ He’s turned around, already jogging down the front porch steps when he hears it. 

“Tadashi.” 

Freezing, he forgets how to breathe. He’s too scared to turn around. He’s too scared to face that kind of rejection again. The footsteps follow him to the front gate. 

And then suddenly two arms are wrapped around him from behind. The hug doesn’t last long as they let go, gently grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face them. 

It’s his mom, and she’s sporting the saddest look he’s ever seen on her. 

“Tadashi,” she says again, grabbing onto his free hand with both of hers. 

“Mom,” he manages to get out. 

“I’m sorry-”   
As soon as she starts talking again, he can feel the wall coming back down. It’s hardly a wall anymore, it’s a dam. The burning in his eyes doesn’t last long before his vision blurs. 

“-I should have been there for you-” 

The tears come down faster than he anticipates. He drops the flowers, pressing the bandaged hand to his eyes to try and stop them. 

“-we gave up on you when we shouldn’t have-” 

It becomes hard to breathe, him choking on every inhale. She takes him into a hug, where he almost violently bends down to hug back. His shoulders shake uncontrollably, out of sync with his breathing. 

“-and I’m sorry. I will always be sorry. And I can’t expect you to want us back.” His mother’s previously calm voice tremors as she runs a hand through his hair. “Tadashi, I’m _sorry._ ”   
There’s no possible way for him to talk as he sobbed into the crook of her neck. He has no specific way to pinpoint how it happens. There was the smell of her perfume, the smell he’s known since his senses started working. The way her hugs had never changed, even as he grew far taller than her in his early teens. The way that he had been looking for this specific touch since he was kicked out, never being able to find it. 

_ So yeah.  _ Maybe Tadashi  _ was _ a little touch starved. But nothing had been able to satisfy that need like this. 

Maybe things were always going to be fucked after what happened, but that didn’t matter to him right now. Things could be fucked, but they were still changing. They were still evolving. Tadashi was so  _ sick  _ of letting things stay at satisfactory when he could have more. When he could go out and change what was wrong. When he was able to go home. Home and hug his mother, the only person he truly thought had cut him out. 

He was ready for that kind of change. And he had been for a long time. 

The walk home from his first re-established family dinner was a calm and peaceful one. Crickets sang in the summer night, like the perfect soundtrack to his life. Music wasn’t just the soundtrack of humanity, he decided. It was the soundtrack to all of life. There was music in the rhythm of his shoes hitting the pavement, there was music in how his keys chimed together as they hung down from his grasp, there was music in the sound of trains and cars passing by. Everything had a melody and a beat if he listened close enough. He thought it quite selfish to contain music to being the creation of humans. Music created itself; everyone else was just lucky enough to witness it. 

Tadashi smiled at the nearly skip in his step. Every time he thought about his parents the tears almost came back. Less of a sad cry, and more of a satisfied one. 

_ Satisfied.  _

With his head facing the blank night sky, he found himself already walking under the streetlamps on his street. He sighed, dropping his vision back down so he could walk up the front steps. 

The front steps that Daichi sat on, glancing down at his phone. 

He freezes, choosing between a “get out of here” and a “stay out of my life”. Instead, he manages a, “What are you doing here?” 

Daichi looks up and puts his phone away. “Waiting for you,” he answers bluntly, using his cane to stand up. 

The two stop, staring at each other. Tadashi considers just brushing past him and going inside. To his surprise, he speaks again. 

“I’ve been a shit friend.” He shrugs. “Both now and in the past.”   
“Oh, you think?” Tadashi scowls. “Like how you ignored me for four months, or how you’re always on my case about something? Or, what, accusing me of being unstable, or some shit?” 

Daichi stays quiet for a moment as he storms past, angrily shoving his keys into the door. “I only ever did it because I cared about you.” 

Tadashi pauses. 

“I thought if you didn’t see me, you’d get over it. I know that’s stupid now, but it’s what I thought.” 

He spins around on his heels. “Then what about the rest, yeah?” 

“Like I said, I’ve been a shit friend.” Daichi looks down at the ground, then back up at him. “And I’m sorry. I can change. You’re one of my best friends, you know that?” 

Taking a few steps down from the door, he finds them eye to eye. “You’re an asshole.” His narrow eyes turn soft. “But I guess I am too.” Tadashi hugs him, resting his chin onto Daichi’s shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you.”   
“You’re right.”   
It’s quiet, but it’s there. “What?” Tadashi lets go, cocking his head. 

“I don’t try to be happy.” He puts his hand onto his shoulder with a tight grip. “I don’t think either of us have been. But I also think we can make that change.” 

For a split second, he thinks he’s about to kiss him. He doesn’t. 

Daichi lets go, giving him a sad smile before starting to walk back out into the night. At the edge of the fence, he pauses and turns back to him. “Call me when you figure it out, yeah?”   
He nods, and lets him go, still thinking about the kiss. He’s letting go of that too. Daichi was one of his best friends, and things were more than satisfactory staying that way. Things were going to be okay. They had to be. 

It’s just before the middle of August when they’re together again. Tadashi’s easier work schedule just ended today, and he’d been seeing Tsukishima nearly every day. Sometimes they liked to talk, both about the serious and the nonserious (he’d discovered that Tsukishima’s favourite colour was green). Sometimes they liked to do more (Tadashi was good at what he did). It was comforting to have somebody. Somebody that got him, somebody that he didn’t have to put up walls around. 

They sat on a pier, feet dangling above the water. Tadashi liked to close his eyes and feel the ocean breeze against his face. It had been a fairly long time since he had been near the coast, despite hardly even living that far from it. 

“Hey,” Tsukishima says and bumps shoulders with him. 

He opens his eyes and looks over. “Hey.” 

“It’s so high school,” he starts, looking down at the water, “but I like you. I like you to the point where I think I could fall in love with you.” 

Something feels off. He isn’t stupid. “But?” Tadashi raises his eyebrows. 

“But I can’t do this.”   
And at that moment, his heart comes to a stop. 

Tsukishima widens his eyes, turning his head over towards him. “No! Wait- fuck. God, I’m bad with words.” 

“Tell your escapades that.” 

“Shut up.”   
“Sorry.”   
It’s funny, but neither of them laugh. He fiddles with his fingers. “I mean, like, I can’t do this until I’m stable. I can’t have something and maintain something like this if I’m not okay. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”   
Tadashi nods, partially understanding where he’s coming from. “So what next, then?” 

He watches his chest move slowly with how he breathes. Tsukishima swallows. “I’m, uh, checking into rehab tomorrow.” 

“Oh.”   
“Yeah.” 

“I understand.” He says it because he does. 

Tsukishima stands up. “I’ll see you, yknow?” 

He stays sitting, but turns to look at him. “Find me when you’re ready, okay?” 

“I promise.” 

Then Tadashi lets go again, because it’s the most he can do. The sound of Tsukishima’s footsteps leaving prompts him to turn back to the sea. It’s not necessarily fair, but it’s what’s right. Opening his wallet, he pulls out a coin and balances on his closed hand for a moment. 

_ Heads or tails.  _

_ Heads I go back to stop him from leaving.  _

_ Tails I let him go.  _

He flips it, watching it fall into the water and sink beneath the waves. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t perfect. Tadashi stares back up into the ocean, watching how it moves and breathes with everyone else in the world. 

The ocean was music too. 

Pulling up his knees, he rests his arms on top, and then his chin on that. There wasn’t a particular word coming to mind to describe how he felt. With every inhale, he could feel the crest of the wave swell. With every exhale, the crash of the water as it curved down. He wasn’t sad, no. This was their happy ending. 

That’s really what letting go was. 

It was his happy ending.

* * *

  
  


The slam of the volleyball on the floor is satisfying, but not quite enough. As he lands on his feet, Tadashi sighs. The water bottle on the other end of the court was still standing upright, but he was getting there. 

“Tadashi, dude. Everyone else is leaving.” One of his gym friends stared at him from over the railing from above the court.

“I know, just one more.” 

This time, he’s hyper-focused. Tossing up the ball, he runs up, jumps, and serves it. This time, he grins as it knocks over the bottle. He knew he’d get there. He’s finally satisfied and leaves the gym in a thick coat and scarf. 

It’s snowing in New York City, freezing cold in the late December night. He’s twenty-seven as of last month and his back doesn’t hurt as much after he decided to take up yoga. There are still the occasional aches and pains, but it’s the stretches that sometimes work better than weed. 

His breath is visible in the air as he makes his way back to his apartment. It’s nowhere as nice as having a whole house, but he didn’t expect much more from New York. Just the bare minimum was enough to drain his wallet, most of the time. It’s a twenty minute walk, not counting the subway ride to his street. He never hates that though. He has yet to get sick of it. 

After sticking his key in the door and unlocking it, he shakes off the snow from his hair and kicks off his boots at the door. “Hey, I’m home!” He calls out in English. 

“God,” Daichi calls out from the kitchen, “can we  _ please  _ not have English Fridays this week?” 

Tadashi rolls his eyes, pulling off the scarf as he walks in. “ _ You’re never going to le-arn! _ ” he calls out in a sing-song voice. 

Daichi turns around from the meal he’s cooking with a glare. “I’ve had the longest day. I am  _ begging  _ you.” 

“Fine, but that means we’re having two English days next week.” He pulls up a chair at the breakfast bar, going through their mail. 

It had been about a year since they moved here. Tadashi sold the house, Daichi sold the store. Even on the rougher days, like not having heat the first winter, and the looming threat of not being able to pay bills, he still had yet to regret his decision. Daichi had gotten a job at a convenience store and was learning English, albeit with a struggle. Tadashi himself worked most of the day at an athletics store and weekend nights teaching English classes. In his free time, he practiced volleyball with a team at his gym. Maybe it wasn’t his original dream, but it was more than enough. 

“When do you want to get a Christmas tree?” He asked, smiling down at the Christmas card they had received. It was from Kageyama and Yachi, the two both wearing reindeer ears and holding up peace signs. Kageyama had much improved on his smile. 

He still regularly stayed in touch with them. Both of them worked together to open a small, hole-in-the-wall nail salon earlier this month. Kageyama truly seemed to be happy with what he was doing and she seemed to as well. Finding one job she really wanted rather than two that stressed her out was going to add back those years of life she lost due to working. They were supposed to visit this spring, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited as all hell. 

“I dunno,” Daichi shrugged and began to plate food. “We could try next week. Nothing too big, though.” 

“Obviously. Our ceilings are too low.” 

“How do you feel about stringing it with popcorn? Isn’t that an American thing?”   
“Are you insane? I’d rather just leave it bare. It’ll attract roaches. Or _rats_.” 

There was another Christmas card, this one from the Tsukishima household. It was a sweet photo, the two brothers with their mom. Akiteru messaged him about every month or so, just trying to see how he was doing. Then there was the occasional drunk call here and there. His thumb swiped over the picture, stopping at Tsukishima. 

_ Kei. _

Updates were slow with him at first, but they also messaged regularly. Talking about everything both infinite and finite. It was hard to keep up with the timezones, both dealing with either extremely late night or early morning hours to call and try to see each other face to face. He got out of rehab in very early spring, just after Tadashi left. He’d felt guilty about it at first, but Kei consistently reassured him that going was the right choice. That he needed to live his own dreams and never wait behind for anyone else. 

He hadn’t heard from him in about a solid week. 

Daichi starts heading to the table with their dinner already plated. Tadashi gets up from the breakfast bar and walks over with a frown. 

“Why did you make three plates?” He asks, finally shrugging off the coat and tossing it onto their shitty couch. 

“You’ll see,” Daichi smiles, sitting down. 

_ You’ll see?  _

There’s a knock at the door, making him jump. 

“You should open that,” he nods towards it and starts eating without him. 

It weirds him out, but he walks to their door regardless.  _ Was it a hitman?  _ Maybe his friend had had  _ enough  _ of the English Fridays. The other possibility was that it was a stripper, and to be honest Tadashi preferred the idea of it being a hitman. 

As he opens the door, his eyebrows shoot up. He’s face to face with Kei. 

“Hey,” he says in a surprised voice. 

Kei’s hair is covered with melting snow. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “Hi.” 

It’s hard for Tadashi to keep the smile from coming onto his face. Tsukishima Kei can keep a promise, and  _ god.  _

He was glad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not sad YOU'RE sad. i'm not sad YOU'RE- okay fuck it, i'm sad  
> ah. thank you so much for sticking with me through this. this started as a random idea i had for a (radio dj x mechanic) fic whilst on the train and it just... evolved? im so glad i finished this. and im sentimental. sentimental and glad. but yeah whatever this isnt a funeral cuz ig i still have akaashi's story, but this is closing the book on kei and tadashi's. i appreciate all the babes that would consistently talk at me with every update. i see yall and i live for yall. fr  
> okay ack anyway yes. tysm for reading and being sweet and staying. i love yall to the moon and back. 
> 
> make sure to wash your hands, stay home, and stay healthy. be safe, babes. i'll cya^^

**Author's Note:**

> hi sorry i promise this gets more interesting. i have a lot of yams and yachi and yams and daichi dynamics set up for this, they're both more prominent in this cuz i love them.  
> tysm for reading if you decided to continue the story, that means a lot
> 
> make sure to wash your hands, stay home, and stay healthy. be safe, homies. I'll cya next time^^


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